


Barriers

by swanqueenfic13



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 63,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueenfic13/pseuds/swanqueenfic13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is a little fic I've been working on in which Beca meets Chloe at an LA Pride parade, but fate keeps bringing them back together. In the face of a tragedy, Beca has to learn to let down her walls and rely on others. (IDK I'm bad at summaries just give it a chance)</p><p> </p><p>TW: Non-con, homophobia, rape flashbacks, panic attacks</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Parade

Beca had never been to a pride parade before.

It’s not like she was a homophobe, or anything. She just really, really hates crowds. If it makes a difference, she’s never been to any sort of parade before, unless you count when she was a kid, and her parents forced her. But Beca doesn’t count those because as soon as she was old enough to scowl (a skill she picked up at an impressively early age), she was insisting on staying home. So, despite her hatred of crowds, here she is at the pride parade in LA. She had just started as a paid intern at a new radio station editing mixes, so when her bosses had said the entire office was going, she didn’t really argue. 

It was just as loud, and crowded, and hot, and sweaty, and smelly as Beca imagined. But the atmosphere is so totally happy, and exciting, and inclusive that she can’t really hate being here. She’s just kind of standing on the sidewalk, having somehow made her way to the front (probably because she’s short and people feel bad), when she sees the protesters. There’s a big group of them across the street, being kept away from the parade by a police barrier. She can only catch glimpses between the floats, and groups of people marching by.

The only thing she really notices is that they’re all really angry, and all wearing black or white. It’s an interesting contrast to the explosion of color on the other side of the barrier. Even Beca, whose entire wardrobe is basically black, dug out her most colorful clothes (blue, and a red jacket).  These angry people are all carrying signs, and yelling. Beca can hear some of them over the sounds of joy.

“Burn in hell!”

“God hates fags!”

“Unnatural deviants!” They shout this, and worse, and Beca just rolls her eyes, turning to where she assumes her best friend Amy is standing.

“God, I hate bigots,” she says loudly, glaring at them.

“Oh, I know!” a voice calls back. A decidedly not-Aussie voice. Startled, Beca turns to find herself next to a beautiful young girl with curly red hair and big blue eyes. Not her blonde, Australian friend who named herself Fat Amy. “You know what makes them really mad?” Beca wonders just how drunk this girl is, because she’s bouncing, and grinning, and entirely too close to Beca. She must be at least a little drunk to not be feeling the strong “ _ don’t-touch-me” _ vibes Beca is giving off.

“Um, what?” Beca asks awkwardly.

“When we’re  _ happy _ ,” she giggles, and suddenly, she’s surging forward and her lips are on Beca’s. Beca isn’t a homophobe, not at all, but she’s not gay, and she doesn’t like being touched. Even if it is pretty redheads doing the touching. And she  _ really _ hates when people just kiss her, like she has no say in the matter. But this girl is a good kisser, and so Beca doesn’t pull away at first.

“Dude!” she finally shouts back after the girl pulls away. “Do you always just kiss random people to piss off some homophobes?” And when Beca gestures to the aforementioned homophobes, she sees they’re renewed in their shouting, cursing at Beca, threatening to stone her. A flicker of fear passes through her before she calms herself.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, having the good graces to really look embarrassed and contrite. “Sometimes I get carried away when I’m here. I’m Chloe,” she says, holding out her hand with a smile.

“Beca,” Beca says shortly, shaking her hand just once. “And, not to be, like, rude or anything, but I’ve got to go. I lost my friend, and if I don’t find her soon, she’ll wake up naked, hungover, and in a jail cell.” Chloe throws her head back laughing, like she thinks Beca’s kidding (she isn’t), and smiles at Beca as she disappears into the crowd.

 

Luckily, Beca had found Fat Amy before she got too drunk, or too handsy, or arrested. She had just walked Amy into her apartment before deciding to walk the four blocks to her apartment. It was a nice night, she wasn’t drunk, and she was too broke to pay for a cab. She was passing by a nicer apartment complex, wondering what it’d be like to live way up on one of the higher floors. She had just stopped to look into the courtyard when she heard them.

“Hey, baby, damn,” one of the men, one who’s got a skull tattoo on his neck calls, whistling. Beca stiffens. She’d been catcalled before, but usually from across the street, during the day, on busy roads. Now, she was alone. And the group of five or six college-aged men was just a few feet from her. They all leered at her, and she just glared, trying to get around her, but they spread out, blocking her escape.

“You ought to smile, girl,” one guy crows. She glares at his stupid man-bun. 

“That ain’t a smile, baby. Come on, just a smile,” another guy in a leather jacket laughs. Yes, a leather jacket. Like he thinks he’s a badass.

“Like this,” Skull Tattoo says, twisting his lips into some strange grimace. He high-fives his friend with the eyebrow piercing.

“Excuse me,” Beca says tightly, asking to get around them.

“Not until you gimme a smile,” Eyebrow Piercing snickers.

“She’ll have to give me much more than a smile,” the last guy says, a tall, hulking man with a mohawk leered.

“Come on, guys, can I just get by?” Beca asks, a little frightened now.

“Didn’t I see you at Pride, earlier?” Green Beanie asks.

“Yeah!” Leather Jacket cackles. “She was making out with that little redheaded hottie!”

“Damn girl, that was sexy,” Man Bun says. They step forward, forming a loose circle around Beca. She can feel her palms start to sweat. She’s regretting not taking that cab.

“Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” Skull Tattoo asks.

“I just want to get home,” Beca says quietly, all of her bravado gone now that she’s trapped, backed into the courtyard next to a little garden.

“Gotta pay the toll,” Mohawk growls. He is the first to lunge forward, slapping her ass.

“Hey!” Beca protests. He just laughs. And he’s closer now, and when he grabs her hands, she isn’t strong enough to pull away. He pins her hands to her sides and leans in, forcing his mouth onto hers. Beca freezes.

“You’re so hot,” he groans. And suddenly, Beca feels a pressure behind her, and someone is trying to pull off her jeans.

“No!” she shrieks, kicking. “Help! Please!” And Mohawk slaps her.

“Get her pants, Mikey,” he growls, and Beca turns around just enough to see Green Beanie yanking down her pants. She whimpers.

“Please, somebody, he-” her pleas are cut off as Mohawk’s mouth is on hers again. Her legs are cold in the night air, and he forces her to her knees, still keeping a grip on her by her hair.

“Don’t,” she begs as he unzips his pants. Mohawk just laughs, and then he is inside her mouth. Beca cries while they all take turns on her, and never stops calling out for help. They pin her to the ground, rip at her clothes, hit her. At one point, three of them are inside her from every orifice, and she feels like she can’t breathe. 

She’s been calling for help for ages. But now, naked while they all take turns touching her, she stops calling. No one is coming for her.

 

Chloe is smiling when she returns home to her apartment complex. She smiles at her little garden in the courtyard, she smiles at her neighbors poking their heads out their window to greet her. She smiles, regaling her best friends of the stories of the parade over text. She smiles when she takes off her clothes, getting ready to take a shower.

Chloe is just a happy person.

And when she’s happy, she turns on her bluetooth speaker, and sings along in the shower. She turns the volume all the way up, and sings at the top of her lungs. Singing helps her think, it helps her calm down. It takes her a little longer to shower today, since she has to wash off all the paint she acquired at the pride celebrations. She sings while she gets dressed afterward, happy to put on her pajamas and spend the rest of the night alone.

She’s still humming when she hears it.

At first, she wonders if someone had just left their TV on too loud and was watching a crime show, or a horror movie. But something didn’t feel right, so when Chloe went to open her window, she was clutching her phone, ready to call for help.

“Oh my God,” she mumbles when she sees what very clearly looks like assault. She’s already dialing 911 before she even finishes the statement. “Yeah, hi, I’m at the apartment complex on Thames. I think someone’s being assaulted outside my apartment. I need some help,” she whispers, rummaging around her apartment for her slippers, her coat, and her bat. She’s just confirmed that help is on the way when she grabs her bat. When she had told her parents she was going to live alone in LA, her dad had insisted on giving her a bat to protect herself. And, because it’s her dad, he bought her a pink bat with Hello Kitty on it. So that “the last thing the bastards see before you hit ‘em is the punishing face of Hello Kitty.” 

“Please, please, stop,” Chloe hears a voice begging as she runs down the stairs. She pulls out her phone, deciding to take pictures to document their faces, as evidence. She leaves the building quietly, filming them attacking a girl on the ground.

“Hey!” she calls out, still recording. Five heads turn to her, and she runs at them. “Leave her alone!” She pockets her phone so she can use both hands to grip the bat and swing, and she feels it connect with at least one body.

“You bitch!” one of the voices grunts, and she sees a few fleeing. After a moment, the other two follow, leaving Chloe alone, holding the bat, standing protectively in front of the bleeding girl on the ground. When she’s sure they’re gone, she turns to face the girl.

“Are you okay?” she asks. When the girl opens her eyes, Chloe recognizes her. “Beca, right? Oh my god.” Beca’s face is bruised, her lower lip is split, and there’s plenty of blood pooling between her legs. Beca clenches her jaw and wipes at the tear tracks on her face. Chloe takes off her coat, draping it over Beca’s naked form.

“Does it l-look like I’m f-fucking okay?” Beca shouts angrily, her breath hitching. Chloe reaches forward to hug her instinctively, but when Beca flinches, Chloe sits back down, settling next to her, leaving some space.

“No, it doesn’t,” Chloe murmurs. “But help is coming,” she offers, reaching out slowly to take Beca’s hand, making sure to give her time to pull away. “So, just to be clear, that was unwanted, right? I didn’t just hit your consenting adult partners with a Hello Kitty bat, right?” Chloe attempts a joke. Beca’s lip twitches, like she might smile.

“A Hello Kitty bat?” Beca asks.

“Mhmm,” Chloe hums, slowly inching her hand forward. She can hear the sirens now. “So, before they get here, they were assaulting you, right?” And when Beca nods, Chloe’s heart shatters.

“Y-yeah,” Beca cries out, clutching at Chloe’s hand like a lifeline. “Yeah,” she says again, and it’s like a dam bursts, and Beca is sobbing, her entire body heaving. Chloe desperately wants to hug her, but just holds Beca’s hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back until the ambulance, and three police cars pull up.


	2. Upon Further Examination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca asks Chloe to stay, and Chloe provides.

“Don’t leave me,” Beca had begged when the ambulance pulled up.

“Never,” Chloe promised. She stayed next to Beca while the EMTs examined her, covered her in a better blanket, and put her on the stretcher. The police try to get Chloe to stay and answer questions, but Beca starts hyperventilating when Chloe starts to pull away, so they promise to follow them to the hospital. 

“You riding along?” the younger EMT, a blonde woman asks Chloe. She nods, hopping into the back of the truck. She settles herself onto the bench across from the EMT so she can keep holding Beca’s hand.

“What’s your name?” the woman asks Beca.

“B-beca Mitchell,” she says softly, her eyes drooping. The EMT curses.

“She’s lost a lot of blood. Can you fill this out while I get her on the monitors?” Chloe doesn’t get a chance to answer before the EMT shoves a tablet at her. A blank form sits on the screen, and Chloe feels hopelessly out of her element. She doesn’t know  _ anything _ about Beca. She didn’t even know her last name before now!

“Beca,” Chloe says gently. “What’s your birthday?”

“August 9, 1991,” she mumbles, not opening her eyes. But her grip on Chloe’s hand is still tight.

“Any allergies?”

“Seafood.”

“Any to medications?”

“Unh-unh,” she grumbles, and the beeping on the monitor speeds up.

“Hey, Johnny, she might be losing consciousness. Lost a lot of blood, any way we can speed this up?” the female EMT calls to her partner. Chloe lurches, feeling the ambulance speed up.

“Not unconscious,” Beca groans.

“Are you taking any medications?” Chloe asks her.

“Um, no,” Beca says, opening her eyes again. She’s crying, and Chloe rests the tablet on her knees to reach up and wipe away a stray tear.

“Is there someone you want me to call? Family, friend, boyfriend, girlfriend?” Chloe asks gently. She can feel the ambulance slow down and looks out the window to see they’ve reached the hospital ambulance bay.

“I don’t have anyone,” Beca mumbles, and Chloe’s hand is wrenched from hers when they have to shift Beca. In the craze of an ER in LA, Beca is rushed into the back, forcing Chloe to stay in the waiting room. She bites her lip, watching the doors swing closed as Beca disappears.

 

“So, run it through with us just one more time,” the detective sighs. Chloe tries not to groan, but she’s given her statement at least three times, and she’s exhausted. No one’s letting her see Beca yet while they do the examinations and collect evidence, and she hopes the younger girl is okay all alone.

“I never knew her before today. We were at the pride parade, and to kind of spite the protesters, I kissed her. Then, we parted ways. I got home later at night, and I went to take a shower. I have music on in the shower, so I didn’t hear anything until I got out.”

“And what did you hear?” he prompts.

“Someone crying, and calling for help. I thought it was just someone’s TV at first, but something didn’t feel right. So I opened my window that looks out onto the courtyard, and I saw a big pile of people on top of someone, and the person was crying. It looked like a girl, and she was naked. So, I called 911, I grabbed my shoes, a coat, and my bat.”

“This bat?” he asks, showing her a picture of her pink bat on his phone.

“Yes. My dad got that for me when I moved to the city, just in case I ever got robbed or something. It was supposed to be a joke. But I grabbed it, just in case, and I went downstairs. And I heard a girl’s voice crying, asking them to stop. I took out my phone, and took a video as I approached them. I got their attention, and they looked at me. When they saw my phone, some of them took off. One stepped towards me like he was going to hurt me, so I swung at him. Then he and the others ran.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I went to sit with Beca while we waited for you guys,” she shrugs, stifling a yawn.

“Okay, good. And you can send us that video?”

“Absolutely. Take it off my phone if you want. When can I see Beca?”

“As soon as they’re done with the examination. So, you guys just met today?” Chloe nods, handing over her phone. “I’ll get this to our tech, she can take it off your phone so we can examine it, and we’ll get it back to you. Would you be willing to testify in court, should it come to that?”

“Absolutely.” Chloe looks over the cop’s shoulder to the entrance to the treatment area, hoping someone will come get her.

“Alright, I’ll see if they can let you into her room to wait for her.” Chloe smiles at him gratefully. After a few minutes, a nurse directs her to a room that’s empty, but has the EMS blanket in the trash, so Chloe knows Beca was here. She settles in the chair to wait.

 

Beca really wishes that she was anywhere but here.

They reminded her that she had the right to refuse this exam, but the only thing she wanted more than to not be here was for those bastards to be punished. She wants them to get sent to prison, wants them to rot there. So, she lets the nurses and doctors poke and prod her. They take pictures, measure all of the marks they left. They swab her cheeks, take all of the fluids from between her legs. They measure the bite marks, and swab under her fingernails for their DNA.

“Alright, sweetheart, the hard part is over now,” one of the nurses tells her. She’s a sweet, older woman named Jenn who pushes Beca’s wheelchair back to her room. “Your friend is waiting for you.” When they get back to the room, Beca smiles seeing Chloe sound asleep in the chair. Her legs are curled up, and her head rests on the wall, her red hair fanning out around her. She jerks awake when Beca groans trying to climb into the bed.

“Beca,” she says softly, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Ten past two,” Jenn supplies. “The doctor will come by shortly to check on your cuts, make sure there’s no infections or anything. You should be able to go home soon after that.”

“Okay,” Beca croaks. When Jenn leaves, she turns to Chloe. “How long have you been here?”

“In the room? I got here, like, fifteen minutes ago,” Chloe grumbles, her voice still thick with sleep. “The police wanted me to give a statement.”

“I don’t mean to keep you here,” Beca mumbles, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. As soon as they had finished her examination, and stopped the bleeding, they had given her hospital clothes to wear. They didn’t have any underwear for her, so she was pretty uncomfortable, but it was better to have something on. “You can go home.”

“No way!” Chloe protests, dragging her chair next to Beca’s head. “You asked me to stay, and I’m totally staying until you make me leave. Is there someone else I should call?” Beca thinks for a minute. She knows she’ll probably have to call work to get someone to cover for her shift later today, and as soon as they get someone to cover for her, Amy and Jesse will be all over her. But she doesn’t really want to talk to anyone.

“No, not right now,” she says quietly, and she curls in on herself, lying down on the bed, clutching Chloe’s hand again.

“Then, I’ll be here. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you if the doctors come.” Beca just nods, hating that she likes that Chloe is staying. She’s a big girl. She doesn’t need someone to hold her hand. She hasn’t needed anyone since her mom died when she was 16. She didn’t need her dad, even though she had been forced to live with him until her 18th birthday. He had walked out on her family, and had learned to live without him, had learned to live without anyone. Beca Mitchell never needed anyone.

Beca hated that she needed Chloe here to hold her hand.

But she did.


	3. We're Gonna Be Fast Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca finds that, like it or not, she's made a good friend in Chloe Beale.

“Oh, do you have to wake her up? She just fell asleep a few minutes ago,” Chloe whispers when the doctors came in. Beca had sat, practically catatonic, just staring at the wall. Every time she got close to closing her eyes, she’d jerk awake with a little yelp. But finally, after over an hour, her eyes had closed, and she seemed to be sleeping.

“We have to disinfect the wounds, make sure none of them need stitches. We can try not to wake her up, but it has to be done,” the doctor says, wheeling a cart into the room. When the wheels squeak, Beca jumps, yelping as she wakes. She flails on the bed, whimpering, her eyes wide before she just stops, and her face goes red as she realizes where she is.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbles, gathering the blanket up as she pulls herself into a sitting position. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“No, you should rest,” Chloe says sternly. Beca flinches as she puts a hand on her shoulder, but relaxes into Chloe’s touch. “The doctor didn’t mean to wake you up, right, doc?” The doctor, (after reading her nametag, Chloe realizes her name is Lexie), just blushes.

“Right, um, I’m Dr. Grey. Sorry, I tried not to wake you, but I have to clean your scratches and make sure you’re all good before we can start discharging you,” the doctor explains. Beca just nods, her grip on Chloe’s hand getting stronger. Chloe scoots her chair as close as she can to the bed, leaning to whisper in Beca’s ear.

“You’re not afraid of doctors, are you, Beca?” Chloe asks, trying to keep her voice light and teasing. Beca scoffs indignantly, but the effect is ruined when Dr. Grey goes to check her legs, and she fidgets nervously.

“I just don’t like being touched,” Beca murmurs, closing her eyes.

“I’m touching you,” Chloe points out, her lips practically on Beca’s ear.

“You’re different.” Beca leans back, and Chloe averts her eyes while the doctor takes of Beca’s pants to get all of the scratches, but she still notices the bruises purpling her entire lower half. Probably her upper half, too.

“Yeah? You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, Mitchell.” Chloe smiles, even though Beca can’t see her. “But it’s okay, I like being different.”

“I am sure you do,” Beca hums.

“Is that supposed to be an insult? Because I’m not taking it as one.”

“Whatever you say, Chloe.” Beca stops for a moment. How does she not know Chloe’s last name? Granted, they just met that day, but it feels like an eternity.

“Beale,” Chloe says softly. “My last name is Beale.” As if she was reading Beca’s mind. Beca peers at her.

“Alright, Beale, you’re different,” Beca continues, smirking.

“Hate to interrupt, but I’ve got to look at your torso,” Dr. Grey says, smiling awkwardly. Chloe lets go of Beca’s hand, but sees the moment of panic in Beca’s eyes, and crawls onto the bed with her, sitting on her other side.

“We having a sleepover, Beale?” Beca smirks, trying to keep calm and collected as the doctor unties her shirt, leaving her basically naked. Chloe does a good job keeping her eyes on Beca’s face.

“If you want to, but I don’t usually get naked with my  _ friends _ during sleepovers,” Chloe teases. Beca blushes, stumbling over her words. She doesn’t know why Chloe’s words send a rush of heat to her cheeks and make her stomach turn, but it scares her.

“Wouldn’t call us friends, Beale. I just learned your name, and I just met you today,” Beca says drily.

“I’ve seen you naked, like three times,” Chloe laughs. “I would say that we are at  _ least _ friends. Or do you just let everyone see you naked?” Chloe realizes her mistake when Beca stiffens, her face hardening into a mask. “Oh, God, Beca, I didn’t mean it like that. Beca clenches her jaw and screws her eyes tight, remembering.

_ “Get her pants, Mikey,” he growls, and Beca turns around just enough to see Green Beanie yanking down her pants. She whimpers. She’s on her knees, and another rips off her jacket. Mohawk is inside her mouth, and her eyes are closed. One of his friends rips off her flannel button down. She can hear each of the buttons falling off, hitting the ground. _

_ “Damn, baby girl, look what you were hiding under all those layers,” one voice crows, snapping her bra strap. _

_ “She’s got tats, man,” another adds, probably looking at the tattoos Beca had once been so proud of; now they made her feel dirty, sick. _

_ “And  _ tits _ ,” the other snickers. She can feel them fumbling with the clasps on her bra, and suddenly it falls away. Mohawk Man pulls out of her mouth, letting go with a yell. Beca cries, and someone yanks her to her feet. _

_ “Please, somebody,” she shouts as Eyebrow Piercing slaps her. _

_ “Can I?” he asks Mohawk, clearly the man in charge. He just leers at Beca, and she moans. He barely yanks her underwear down, leaving it around her thighs, just enough for him to get inside her. At some point in the attack, someone takes them off completely, shoving them in their pocket. Leaving Beca, in all her naked glory. _

“Beca, I’m sorry,” Chloe moans as Beca cries, eyes closed, lost in her own memories. When her eyes open, she gasps, like someone being resuscitated after a drowning. 

“I don’t want it, I don’t,” Beca mumbles, and her body starts to shake. Dr. Grey pushes Chloe to the side, holding Beca’s hands down as she flails.

“Beca, Beca, you’re okay now. Beca, you’re safe. You’re at the hospital,” she repeats until Beca stops moving and really seems to look around.

“Beca, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Not your fault,” Beca interrupts gruffly, wiping at her eyes. She puts her arms back through the sleeves of the hospital shirt. “When can I go home?”

“Um,” Dr. Grey says. “I finished with all of your cuts, so I can go get started on discharging you, but the cops have been waiting for your official statement.”

“I just want to go home,” Beca whines.

“M-maybe I can talk them into taking the statement later,” Chloe offers.

“Please, Chloe,” Beca whispers, her voice breaking.

“Of course,” she murmurs, and stands up to walk away.

“Wait!” Beca shouts, desperation creeping into her voice. “You’re coming back, right?” Chloe turns to look back at her. Swallowed up in those hospital gown, sitting alone in the gurney with its metal bars on the side, bruised and battered, Beca looks so much smaller. She looked like a child, waiting for her parents to come wake her up from a bad dream.

“Always,” Chloe grins, leaning in to squeeze her knee reassuringly. “You won’t be able to get rid of me if you tried.” She waits until Beca smiles back, albeit a weak smile, but she waits for it before leaving.

 

Chloe, of course, is successful when she asks for the police to talk to Beca another time. The LAPD created their own SVU squad years ago, and their detectives are experts (of course, Chloe knows there is no squad better than Olivia Benson and her team). Not long after Chloe gets them to change their interview time, Beca starts the process of discharging herself. 

Her clothes were in evidence bags, maybe even still back at the courtyard, and all she had was what the hospital gave her. They managed to find her some socks, and a pair of slippers, and Chloe gave her a coat to wear, but neither girl had their wallets; Chloe’s was in her apartment, but the detectives hadn’t found Beca’s. They figured one of the attackers must have take it.

“How do we get home?” Beca asks, shivering, even through her (okay, so it was technically Chloe’s, but same thing) coat.

“I’ll bring you,” the detective offers, sidling up from the sidewalk. “I came to, uh, bring back your phone, Miss Beale, but I can absolutely drive you ladies home.” Beca nods, and the girls get into the back of his cruiser. “So, where we headed?” Chloe looks at Beca.

“The, uh, apartment complex at 423 Newark Ave, off of Thames,” Beca says softly, glancing at Chloe. They ride in silence, and Chloe never lets go of Beca’s hand. When the detective pulls to a stop in front of Beca’s building, letting Beca out, Chloe starts to follow.

“What are you doing? You live two blocks down,” Beca whispers. Chloe just tilts her head, smiling.

“You think I’m not going to walk you to your door? Cute, Beca, but remember what I said? Can’t get rid of me,” she beams. “Thanks for the ride. I’ve got her from here.” She slams his car door and grabs Beca’s hand, swinging her arm as she walks.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m walking you in. I’m getting you settled. And then, I’m going to sit on your couch. Because no way in hell am I walking home alone while it’s dark,” Chloe interrupts. Beca rolls her eyes.

“You have a habit of making yourself at home, you know that?” Beca teases, grabbing her keys. The detectives had found them in the pocket of her jacket and given it to her while she was still in the hospital. She unlocked the main entrance, leading Chloe to the stairs. “Elevator’s busted,” she shrugs, embarrassed.

“I don’t mind walking a little. You okay?” Chloe asks, still smiling. Beca nods, but every muscle in her body protests, and she finds herself leaning into Chloe. Five flights of stairs later, and Beca opens the door to her apartment.

“Sorry about the mess,” Beca shrugs. 

“It’s cute,” Chloe lies. Cute is not the right word to describe this apartment. Muted. Dark. Average. Not cute.

“Liar,” Beca snorts. “So, uh, you’re gonna stay on the couch until sun up?”

“Yep,” Chloe agrees, plopping herself on the couch. “You should take a shower, go to bed.”

“I’ve gotta call work first,” Beca sighs. She can’t put it off much longer. Her shift starts at three in the afternoon, and she needs to give her boss time to find a replacement. “Hey, Luke?” she says softly, taking the call in her bedroom.

“What’s up, Becs. Early morning mix?” he groans, sounding more than a little hungover. 

“No, I have to call out today.” She bites the inside of her lip.

“No, Beca! Last minute?” he groans.

“I-I was mugged last night,” Beca lies. “They roughed me up. I can’t come in for a few days.”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” he asks. As much as Luke likes to pretend he’s an asshole, he cares about his employees, even the lowly interns.

“I’ll be fine. Listen, don’t tell Amy or Jesse, okay? I don’t need them to worry. Just tell them I have the flu, or something, and to stay away. I gotta go, Luke. Sorry it’s so last minute.” She hangs up on him as he’s trying to say something. As soon as she drops her phone on the bed, she hugs herself round the middle, tears starting to fall.

“Beca?” Chloe calls out, hesitantly pushing the door open. Beca’s shoulders are shaking as she cries silently, and Chloe puts on hand on her shoulder, ignoring her instinct to hug Beca. But when she throws herself at Chloe, she takes that as an invitation. Chloe wraps her arms around Beca, guiding her down to the bed.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers. “I’ve got you, now.” She just holds Beca for a while before Beca calms herself, rising out of Chloe’s grip.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Beca says, her voice even.

“Okay. I’ll be out here if you need me, just watching TV. You’ll shout if you need me?” Beca nods, but Chloe isn’t convinced, so she keeps the volume low enough that she can still monitor Beca. The sun is just rising when Chloe hears it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my lovely readers! So, in the midst of all this angst, (I promise it will have some light hearted fluff, and some good endings eventually), I am also planning my next multi-chapter Bechloe fic. I have two ideas, and I'm looking for your opinions! So, which would you rather read first: a pregnant!Bechloe fic (pre-Bechloe where one is pregnant, and alone, and needs the other's help with Bechloe endgame, obviously, maybe some side Staubrey) or a High school!Bechloe (a boarding school AU with a bit of bullying, and some homophobia, and some discovering of their sexuality, obviously endgame Bechloe, maybe some Staubrey)? Leave me a comment: Pregnant!Bechloe or HS!Bechloe?


	4. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But maybe... maybe Beca does need Chloe... Just a little.

Her voice wafts through the bathroom door, and into the living room.

_ “The storm is coming, but I don’t mind. People are dying, I close my blind.” _ Chloe stands, drawn towards the bathroom to hear Beca better, like a sailor after a siren.  _ “All that I know is I’m breathing now. I want to change the world. Instead, I sleep. I want to believe in more than you and me.” _

“Huh,” Chloe murmurs.  _ Ingrid Michaelson is  _ not _ what I’d expect from her. _ Chloe smiles, imagining Beca as she sings. She sits on the floor, back against the wall and brings her knee up to her chest to sit and listen to Beca for a while longer.

 

Beca inhales shakily.

_ “But all I know is I’m breathing _ ,” she continues. She can only hope that Chloe really is watching TV. She doesn’t like singing for people, but needs to sing. She needs to get out some of her emotions. She needs the catharsis. “ _ All I can do is keep breathing. All we can do is keep breathing now.” _ But Beca can’t breathe. Her shoulders shake with sobs as her tears mingle with the water on her face. Her voice is breaking, but she keeps singing. She’s so distraught that she doesn’t hear Chloe’s voice joining hers outside the door.

 

Chloe hears Beca’s voice break around the same time her heart shatters. 

She can’t even begin to imagine the hell that Beca is going through. She’d overheard one of the doctors giving the preliminary rape kit analysis to a detective. She heard terrible phrases like “vaginal and anal tearing,” “six different semen specimens,” “bite marks,” “bruising,” and quite possibly the most tragic: “traces of urine on her body.” What kind of sick prick rapes a girl,  _ and _ pees on her? Chloe couldn’t even begin to imagine what Beca is feeling. So, when she hears Beca’s voice breaking, Chloe offers her support in the only way she can: through song.

“ _ All that I know is I’m breathing. All I can do is keep breathing. All we can do is keep breathing.” _ Chloe keeps singing, repeating that same line with Beca, growing louder until the song ends, and she can hear Beca vomiting noisily. Torn between giving the girl her space, and desperately wanting to help her, Chloe stands frozen for a few minutes before she hears Beca start the shower up again. Satisfied that Beca is okay, Chloe moves back to the couch. 

 

“You’re fine,” Beca repeats to herself through gritted teeth. After her shower, extended since she had to wash the vomit off of herself, she ran into her room before she could look to see if Chloe was still there. The sun was fully up now, and Chloe had said she was leaving once the sun came up. Beca wasn’t sure if she would be glad or annoyed if Chloe was still here.

“You can get dressed, and go out there. You are fine. It’s over now. You’re  _ fine _ .” Maybe if she says it enough, it’ll become true.

“You can  _ sing _ ,” Chloe calls, smiling as Beca enters the living room. Beca blushes furiously.

“Thought you were leaving,” is all Beca says.

“Told you, Becs, now that we’re friends, you won’t be able to get rid of me,” Chloe giggles. “Are you hungry? I can make breakfast.”

“Not really hungry,” Beca shrugs, settling on the other side of the couch. “You know, you’ve done more than you needed to. Gone above and beyond the description for a kind stranger. You don’t have to stay.”

“We’re not strangers, Beca. I consider us friends. Do you… do you  _ want _ me to leave?” And Chloe’s voice is so fragile, so vulnerable. Beca has only known her for just over a day, but she can already tell that Chloe is rarely vulnerable, rarely anything other than confident, exuberant,  _ happy _ . It was strange to see someone like that look so… afraid. But what was she afraid of? Beca?

“No, I just… You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” Beca shrugs. “I don’t… I’m not good at this  _ friends _ thing.” Beca blushes as Chloe giggles. “Don’t laugh at me! I just… I’m awkward… And, and, and antisocial! Stop laughing!” Beca shoves Chloe playfully.

“Sorry, you’re just… it’s cute, is all,” Chloe smiles, shaking her head. “So, wanna play twenty questions?”

“Wha-huh? Why?” Beca asks, curling into a ball , pushing herself into the cushions of the couch. She tosses a blanket at Chloe, seeing the girl shiver slightly.

“I like doing this with new friends. It’s a fun way to get to know each other.” Chloe’s smile is infectious, so Beca shrugs, agreeing. “Yay!” And Chloe lunges across the couch to give Beca a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll go first!” She takes a moment to think while Beca shakes off the shock. Beca meant it when she said she’s never liked being touched, and especially not after last night. But for some reason, when Chloe kisses her, she doesn’t feel the urge to shrink away, or yell at her about her personal bubble. Chloe’s personality must be infectious, making Beca more relaxed. “Got one!” Chloe finally shouts triumphantly. “What is your dream job?” Beca grins.

“That’s easy. I want to produce music. I’m working my way up the food chain, paying my dues right now. I work as a DJ at KWOW, you know the station? 96.7? Not the most popular but-”

“Oh my god, I love KWOW!” Chloe interrupts. “When is your shift? Maybe I’ve heard some of the stuff you play!” Beca shrugs. She’s the newest, so she doesn’t ever really get to DJ on her own. One time, when the regular midnight shift DJ got sick, she got to play some songs, and snuck in some of her own tracks. But Beca is mostly just organizing music, and running errands for the actual DJs.

“Doubtful, unless you listened to KWOW on May 17 around midnight,” Beca snorts. Chloe pouts.

“Darn! So, it’s your turn.”

“I just ask you a question?” Beca asks. Chloe nods eagerly. “About anything?”

“Yeah! Just something you want to know about me. Let me give you some of the boring stuff. I’m an elementary school music teacher. I like to sing, a lot, and when I was in college, I led my acapella group to nationals. We didn’t win, but that’s a different story. Um, grew up in Atlanta, favorite colors are blue, pink, and yellow, and I am not currently dating anyone.” Beca blushes at Chloe’s last comment and bites her lip.

“What is the most embarrassing thing your parents have ever caught you doing?” Beca asks, grinning devilishly. Chloe squirms, her face burning nearly as red as her hair.

“One time, when I was a senior in high school, my parents caught me as I was about to lose my virginity in the backseat of a car,” Chloe giggles. Beca’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Probably not what you were expecting, or bargained for, right?”

“Uh, um, no,” Beca stutters nervously.

“Yeah, I was with my best friend, too, which was weird. See, my best friend Stacie is, like, super sexual. All the time. About anyone. Guys, girls, doesn’t matter, she just likes sex. Always has. One night when we were hanging out with our friends, we were playing truth or dare, and everyone found out I was a virgin. Stacie and I were both a little drunk, and she offered to take care of that for me. Needless to say, once my parents knocked on the car window, all attempts to lose my virginity were ceased for about a year while I was grounded.” Beca’s laughing so hard her sides hurt. “Okay, okay, enough laughing at me. My turn.” Beca loses her smile. “Um-” Chloe’s question is interrupted by a knocking at the door, and a muffled shouting.

“Be- _ caw _ , open up!” the voice crows, and Beca stiffens, recognizing Jesse’s voice. “We know you’re in there, Luke said you called out sick.”

“I’ll go wait… In the kitchen?” Chloe offers softly. Beca nods, panicking. She didn’t want Jesse to see her, not like this. But he was like a dog with a bone. Once Chloe is in the kitchen, Beca stands to shout through the door.

“Go away, Jesse. I don’t feel very good, and I don’t want visitors,” Beca calls to him.

“Alright, shortstack, you open this door or I’ll kick it down,” Fat Amy threatens.

“Amy, don’t. I’m contagious,” Beca lies.

“Come on, Becs, we’re here to help you feel better,” Jesse sighs. Beca starts to shake. They wouldn’t be so nice to her if they knew how filthy she was. No one wanted to be friends with damaged goods.

“It’s just a, uh, a stomach flu, I think. I’m throwing up, I’m sweating, it’s really not pretty, guys. You know me, I like to be alone,” Beca says, getting desperate.

“Ooh, I’m not good with vomiting,” Beca hears Amy whisper.

“Fine, we’ll go, but we’re leaving you a care package. You’d better take it,” Jesse shouts to Beca.

“I will. As soon as you leave,” Beca promises hoarsely. She waits until she hears them leave before checking the peephole to see that the hallway was empty before she opened the door. She choked back a laugh before pulling the little basket- yes, a literal wicker basket- into the apartment. The chocolates and pastries were definitely Amy’s contribution, and the movies were Jesse’s. Sweet, but not very helpful for someone who’s “sick,” or Beca right now.

“That’s sweet,” Chloe smiles, peeking around the doorjamb. 

“Yeah, they’re… idiots, but sweet,” Beca chuckles awkwardly while Chloe comes back into the living room. She grabs the basket and goes back to the couch with Beca following behind her.

“So, my turn,” Chloe smiles, taking out a chocolate brownie.

“Kinda early for chocolate,” Beca points out. Chloe puts a hand on her chest, aghast.

“It is  _ never _ too early for chocolate, Beca,” Chloe scoffs, taking a big bite, staring pointedly at Beca before she asks her question. “How’d you meet your friends?”

“Amy used to be my roommate, found her on Craigslist. Jesse and I worked together at first, but then get got a job as an intern on a movie production company. I’m, uh, not good at making friends, but they are  _ persistent _ ,” Beca explains, settling closer to Chloe on the couch. 

“I can tell,” Chloe laughs, gesturing to the care package. “Your turn.”

“If you could solve any problem in the world what would it be?”

“Wow, you don’t hold back!” Chloe giggles. She hums, taking a minute to finish her brownie before answering. “Um, probably violence. If I could find a way to end violence, of all kinds, I think I’d be happy.” Beca nods. They continue this game for a while before Beca decides to go out on a limb. It’s her eighteenth question, according to her count.

“Why are you so insistent on being my friend? Is it some kind of pity thing? Or guilt?” Beca asks, her voice soft. Over the course of the game, she and Chloe had progressively shifted closer, through giggle fits, and shoving each other. Chloe pauses to think before answering.

“I wanted to be your friend since I saw you at the parade. It’s why I kissed you, I guess. I just… I don’t know, felt drawn to you? Then, I saw you getting… attacked… And I didn’t know it was you, and I just had to try and help. And you asked me to stay with you! And I’m kind of a sucker for a damsel in distress,” Chloe winks. Beca blushes, squirming.

“So, it’s not pity?” Beca asks, still not entirely convinced.

“Absolutely not. I sympathize with your trauma, but I’m not trying to befriend you because of it,” Chloe whispers, putting a hand on Beca’s shoulder. Beca flinches at first, but then leans into the touch, nuzzling her chin into Chloe’s hand, stifling a yawn.

“If you want to sleep, I can leave,” Chloe offers after a minute passes and Beca yawns twice more.

“No!” Beca yelps. “Don’t- um, just don’t go, please?” Embarrassed by her outburst, Beca curls her knees into her chest, tucking her head down. Why did she have to be so stupid?

“I am happy to stay with you, Beca, for as long as you want me to. Are you scared?” Chloe asks gently. Beca wants to scoff; she’s always been a tough girl, never needed anyone. But the thought of Chloe leaving her alone makes her heart seize up, her palms sweat, her lungs constrict.

“Just… don’t go,” Beca repeats quietly, lifting her head. Chloe nods, and pats her lap.

“Lay your head down,” she explains. “You haven’t slept all night except for maybe ten minutes at the hospital before the doctor had to wake you.” Hesitantly, Beca lies down on her back, her head in Chloe’s lap. Chloe tosses the blanket over Beca, and while Beca gets comfortable, Chloe starts playing with her hair. Beca’s eyes flutter closed without her permission, and when Chloe’s fingers start to massage her scalp, a breathy moan escapes her.

“ _ Just close your eyes, the sun is going down _ ,” Chloe sings softly. Beca sighs, feeling her entire body relax. She really  _ is _ exhausted. Maybe, with Chloe here, she can close her eyes without the images flooding her mind. “ _ You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound. _ ” Beca concentrates on the way Chloe makes her feel safe, letting this feeling comfort her as she falls into a steady sleep.

 

Chloe is tired, too. She had gotten about as much sleep as Beca had, and was struggling to find a way to fall asleep without disturbing the smaller girl sleeping on her lap. She shifts slowly, in increments. With every shift, Chloe gets closer to laying horizontally, more comfortably. By the time her head is on the armrest, Beca is lying completely on top of her, head nuzzled in her chest, arms wrapped tightly around Chloe’s neck. Satisfied, Chloe just loosely wraps her arms around Beca’s waist, readjusts the blankets over the both of them, and closes her eyes, ready to sleep.

 

“Oh my god!” an indignant voice shouts, waking them up a few hours later. Beca whimpers, burying herself in the couch, while Chloe opens her eyes slowly to find two people standing over her, a tall, thing boy with dark hair, and a heavy-set blonde girl.

“Get it, Beca,” the blonde grins, her Australian accent making itself clear.

“God damnit,” Beca mumbles into Chloe’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs I mentioned in this chapter are "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson, and "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift featuring the Civil Wars. 
> 
> Sorry for taking so long, guys! I swear I'm writing, but school is kind of kicking my ass right now


	5. What Are Friends For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get it Beca,” Amy grins at her friend. Beca just moans.  
> “Leave,” she orders.  
> “You could’ve just told us you were hungover with your new honey,” Jesse laughs. “No need to lie and say it’s the flu.”

“Get it Beca,” Amy grins at her friend. Beca just moans.

“Leave,” she orders.

“You could’ve just told us you were hungover with your new honey,” Jesse laughs. “No need to lie and say it’s the flu.”

“She’s not-”

“We didn’t sleep together,” Chloe interrupts. Both intruders look at her skeptically. “I mean, other than the literal sense where we fell asleep on the couch together. But not, like, sex,” Chloe corrects. Beca just groans, rolling up to a sitting position.

“Whoa, shortstack, look like you got attacked by a dingo,” Amy jumps.

“Thanks, Amy,” Beca rolls her eyes. “I was… mugged,” she sighs. Might as well continue the lie.

“Dude!” Jesse protests. “Why didn’t you call us?”

“I didn’t want to talk about it,” Beca growls, lurching to her feet, every muscle stiffer than she could put into words.

“So you’ll talk to some random- no offense,” Jesse says, gesturing to Chloe. “But not your best friends?”

“I am  _ not _ a random,” Chloe protests.

“She stopped the attack, or tried. She’s not a random,” Beca adds. “Chloe Beale, meet my friends Fat Amy, and Jesse.”

“You, um, you call  _ yourself _ Fat Amy?” Chloe asks, canting her head as she shakes their hands.

“Yeah, so twig bitches like you don’t do it behind my back,” Amy says, clucking her tongue at Chloe. “So, you were mugged?” she turns back to Beca.

“Yeah, took my wallet,” Beca nods.  _ And my sanity. And my safety. And my peace of mind. _

“And this little one fought off, what? Two guys?” Jesse asks, referring to Chloe.

“Six,” Chloe corrects them.

“Damn, ginger!” Amy cackles.

“With a bat,” Chloe adds, grinning.

“A pink Hello Kitty bat,” Beca amends, making sure Chloe doesn’t get too high and mighty.

“You know, Becs, you could have called us,” Jesse whispers.

“Didn’t want to,” she mutters, shaking off his attempts to comfort her. “But, uh, I have to go to the police station soon, so you guys can’t stay.”

“Police?” Amy asks.

“Make a statement. I have to get ready, make something to eat. I’ll, uh, I’ll call you guys later,” Beca insists, gently steering her friends toward her front door.

“Don’t think we won’t call you to talk about that hot piece of ginger ass!” Amy shouts from the hall as Beca burns bright red.

“I’m not gay,” Beca tells Chloe.

“Mhmm,” Chloe mumbles. “Do you want me to leave, too?”

“Do you want to leave?” Beca asks nervously.

“Go get dressed, Beca Mitchell. I will make breakfast. Brunch. Lunch. Whatever. I’ll make something edible, and I will drive you to the police station, okay?” Chloe grins, standing up. Beca smiles gratefully, disappearing into her bedroom.  _ Not gay, _ Chloe muses.  _ Well that’s a damn shame. Because I am one hot piece of ass, and she is… gorgeous. Damn shame, _ she thinks as she sets about making something to eat.

 

“We found five of the guys,” the detective tells Beca as soon as she’s finished her statement. “Facial recognition caught them from your friend’s camera phone. DNA tests are out, should be back in by tomorrow. Would you be willing to do a lineup? Pick them out?” Beca’s sweaty hand reaches for Chloe.

“Mhmm,” she squeaks.

“You don’t have to do this now,” a female detective says gently.

“I want to,” Beca nods. “I-I-I… I want them to go down for this,” she says shakily.

“You sure?” Chloe mumbles as they follow the detectives to a private room while they set up the lineups.

 

“Number four,” Beca breathes, squeezing Chloe’s hand. Six men stood in front of her, each wearing a green hat, but she would never forget Green Beanie, and his cruel sneer. “They called him Mikey, or something. He was… He took my pants off.”

 

“Number two,” Beca nods. They had moved to the next line-up where several men with large neck tattoos stood glaring at the screen, but there was only one Skull Tattoo. “He… took me from behind.”

 

They have to wait for a minute while the detectives set up the next few lineups. Beca sits with her head between her knees, trying to stave off as many flashbacks as she can by clinging to Chloe’s hand. “That’s him,” Beca gasps. “Number one, with the eyebrow piercing.”

 

“Number two, that’s man-bun. He held my hands above my head.”

 

“Number three, that’s Leather Jacket. He took my bra…”

 

“Okay, so, those are the five we’ve found,” the detective tells her.

“But what about Mohawk Man?” Beca asks, panicked. “He was the leader! Will you get him?”

“We are doing our best. He was the only one whose face wasn’t clearly caught on the camera. But, now that we have your ID, we can get a warrant to search their apartments, and their phones. We’re bound to find some evidence of who this Mohawk Man is, okay?” she assures Beca.

“They took my wallet,” Beca reminds them. “And did you guys… What did you do with my clothes? I mean, I don’t want them  _ back _ ,” she scoffs. “I just…” Chloe subtly checks her phone as Beca rambles, feeling the frantic texts from her friends.

“We, uh, don’t have  _ all _ of your clothes. They took your undergarments, probably as trophies. But that’s good because when we find them, we’ll know we’ve found our culprits, right?” the male detective explains as Beca’s stomach churns. All she can imagine is Mohawk Man sitting in his bed, getting off while holding her underwear.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Beca mumbles, lurching toward the wastebasket. Luckily, Chloe drops her phone in time to hold Beca’s hair back as she throws up. When she sits back up, she’s crying, trying to wipe her mouth.

“It’s okay,” Chloe assures her. “We’ll get you cleaned up at your place, okay? Are we… Is she done here?” The detectives nod.

“We can drive you back, if you need. We’ll call you when we need you again, okay?” the female detective offers, but Chloe had driven them.

 

They’re halfway back to Beca’s apartment when Chloe gets Aubrey’s fifth phone call.

“Bree, now’s not exactly a good time,” Chloe sighs, figuring if she didn’t answer soon, her best friend would put out a missing person’s flier. 

“Chloe Beale!” Aubrey shouts, and Beca flinches, hearing the shrill voice barking through the receiver. “What is our rule? You have to make contact after your… one night stands. I thought you’d  _ died _ !” Chloe cringes, realizing how this makes her sound like a tramp.

“I wasn’t on a one night stand, just hung out with a friend. I’ll explain later, Bree. I have to go!” Chloe insists.

“When are you coming home? I’m waiting in your apartment,” Aubrey barks.

“I’ll be there when I get there. I have to  _ go _ .” And Chloe hangs up as she pulls into a parking spot across from Beca’s apartment.

“I didn’t mean to keep you from your friends. You can go home,” Beca says softly, rubbing her arms as if to protect herself from something.

“I’m walking you home first, and then, I’m giving you my number. I meant what I said, and I said what I meant: I am your friend, now, and you can’t get rid of me that easy,” Chloe teases, jumping around the car to open Beca’s door, leading her across the street with one elbow, just like a true gentleman.

“You sound like that cartoon,” Beca snickers. “The Dr. Seuss one, with the elephant?”

“ _ Horton Hears a Who! _ ” Chloe giggles. “I meant what I said, and I said what I meant! Chloe Beale is a faithful friend, 100%!” she quotes. Beca rolls her eyes, fumbling with her keys as she unlatches the front door. “Hey,” Chloe points out as a young family step out of the elevator. “I thought you said the elevator was broken?”

“Um, it usually is,” Beca lies. “Must have fixed it,” she shrugs, still pulling Chloe toward the stairs.

“I think you’re lying,” Chloe sighs. “Are you  _ afraid _ of elevators, Ms. Mitchell?” Beca’s face burns bright red as she shrugs.

“It’s just… I’ve gotten stuck in that stupid thing a few times. Not really up for taking the chances anymore,” she explains, leaning heavily on Chloe as she starts up the stairs.

“You’re really sore, aren’t you?” Chloe whispers. She bends her legs a bit, about to scoop Beca up, bridal style. “May I?” 

“Um, can you carry me up five flights of stairs?” Beca asks nervously.

“Pfft,” Chloe snorts. “I’m stronger than I look, and you’re teensy.” And without further ado, Chloe scoops Beca up, one arm under her knees, the other cradling her shoulders. It takes her half the time to get up the stairs before she puts Beca down, letting her unlock the door.

“So, um, thanks for… everything,” Beca sighs, dropping onto her couch.

“Phone, please,” Chloe grins, holding her hand out. Beca rolls her eyes, giving the redhead access to her phone. “You know, I do expect you to call me, or text me, and stuff. Friends now, Mitchell.” She makes a goofy face, setting her contact photo before taking a picture of Beca, scowling on the couch, before sending it to herself.

“But, really, Chloe, um, thanks,” Beca repeats, standing as Chloe makes to leave.

“What are friends for?” Chloe winks, blowing a kiss before she sets back toward her own apartment.


	6. Back to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you even get back to normal after something like that? Beca doesn't know, but that certainly doesn't mean she won't try.

“Chloe Beale, we made that rule for a reason. I swear, if I weren’t so relieved to see you alive and well, I would  _ slaughter _ you!” Aubrey shouts, pacing in front of Chloe. She feels a little bit like a kid who got caught sneaking out, sitting on the couch the next morning while Dad rips her a new one.

“First of all, Bree-”

“Not now, Beale. Still too angry to let you talk,” Aubrey says shortly.

“Bree, take a breath,” Stacie murmurs, coming to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. “She’s fine. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. And if you keep yelling at her, we won’t get to hear all the horny details.”

“Why do you need  _ my _ horny details? Don’t you guys get enough of your own?” Chloe giggles. Aubrey shoots her a dark look, and she holds out her hands, palms up in surrender. “No, but really, there aren’t any horny details. I didn’t hook up last night. I got home at, like, eleven, maybe midnight?”

“Then why the hell weren’t you here when we came in for our breakfast date?” Aubrey glares. Chloe sighs.

“Because I saw a girl getting gangraped outside in the courtyard. I went out to help her, and I went to the hospital with her, okay?”

“Oh my God,” Stacie gasps.

“I didn’t… I’m not sure I was supposed to tell you… This girl, she didn’t even tell her friends. But, like, she was really, really broken up. I couldn’t just leave her,” Chloe explains earnestly. Aubrey twitches, her lip wobbling.

“Is she okay?” she asks quietly.

“As okay as she can be,” Chloe sighs, running a hand through her hair. “We spent all night in the hospital, then I went home with her to make sure she was okay, and I went with her to the police station earlier. They got most of the guys, but they’re still working on finding the ring leader. I just… I’m sorry I scared you guys, but I was a little busy.”

“No, no, we get it… It’s just… God, that’s why there were so many police around the neighborhood?” Stacie puffs.

“Mhmm,” Chloe mumbles.

“So, who is this girl?” Aubrey asks. Chloe smiles, pulling up the photo.

“Remember that girl I told you about? The one I kissed to piss off the homophobes?”

“The little hobbit with the ear monstrosities?” Aubrey sneers. 

“Yes, that one,” Chloe giggles. “It was her.”

“Well now I feel bad,” Aubrey grumbles.

“You should. She’s nice, ear monstrosities and all.” Chloe just shrugs.

“Well, regardless of your reasons, you missed our weekly breakfast. Which means you have to make it up to us with dinner, instead,” Stacie giggles, always good at defusing tension. “And I think we should go to that new place over on Cedarcrest.”

“It was supposed to be my week to pick,” Chloe whines.

“You forfeited that when you neglected to show up. You can pick next week,” Aubrey decides. “And a group consensus can outweigh first picks privilege.”

“And I still protest that rule since you guys are dating-”

“About that,” Stacie says.

“Stace! We were going to wait until dinner!” Aubrey hisses.

“You’re getting married!” Chloe squeals. “Oh my God, I knew you would! Who proposed? Tell me all the details! Show me the rings! I need to be maid of honor. Oh God, whose maid of honor? What do I do? I love you both! Oh my God, I’m so excited. So, so,  _ so _ excited!” She lunges at her friends. “I’m getting dressed, and we’re going to that place, and you will tell me everything, understand?” Chloe just runs, squealing, giggling, down the hall to her room, leaving a stunned Stacie and Aubrey in her wake.

 

Beca doesn’t sleep without Chloe.

She stands under the shower for hours, until the hot water runs out. It scalded her skin, then when the heat ran out, she stood there until she froze. She scrubbed at her skin until it bled, needing to get their touch off of her body. She can still feel their skin, their hands, their DNA all over her. She can feel them inside of her. They’re in her head, too, the voices.

_ Pathetic. _

_ Worthless. _

_ Who would touch you, now? _

_ We’re all you got, baby. _

_ You’re damaged goods, now.  _

_ Used. _

_ Trash. _

“Little DJ, it’s your favorite Aussie,” a voice shouts. Beca just ties her robe closed, leaving the bathroom finally.

“I’m not in the mood for company, Amy,” she says quietly.

“Shortstack, you look like death. How long were you in that shower? Your skin’s all red,” she comments. Beca rolls her eyes, finding Amy in her living room, feet on the table, eating the brownies she had dropped off earlier.

“Water was hot. I don’t feel well. What are you doing here, Amy?” Beca’s voice is flat, dead.

“Well, we know you said you didn’t want company, since you were mugged, and all. But, Jesse didn’t want you to be alone. He’s covering your shifts this weekend, so I offered to come check on you,” she explains. “We can have a girl’s weekend, get drunk on my new jiggle juice recipe, go scouting the clubs for a new hunk of man meat, eh?” she laughs. Beca’s entire body starts to shake, and she takes a deep breath, steadying herself.

“I really do think I’ve got the flu, though. I’m all… shaky, and I’m throwing up,” Beca whispers.

“Ew, the vomit thing was real?” Amy wrinkles her nose. Beca can feel the bile in the back of her throat.  _ See? She’s too disgusted to even be in your presence. Imagine once she finds out the truth _ . “Oh God, shortstack, you know the sight, smell, or sound of vomit makes me ill. I gotta go. I love you, little DJ!” Amy runs out the door (mumbling about “vertical running”) just as Beca throws up in her kitchen sink.

Once alone, Beca just pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt,  sits on her couch, and stares at the TV, refusing to go to sleep.

 

“Miss Beale, no phones,” one of her students giggles. Chloe grins at them.

“You’re right, Lucy. I broke my own rule! And what happens when we break a rule, class?” she asks, standing, leaving her phone on the desk. They all giggle, and shout in unison.

“You have to sing the rule song!” Chloe Beale nods, and begins the silly song, complete with dance moves. She  _ loved _ teaching music to elementary school kids, but found that she hated giving punishments. So, she came up with a silly song and dance that kids had to perform, by themselves. For some, the attention alone was enough punishment, and a strong deterrent from general rule breaking. For those who didn’t mind attention, Chloe added in an essay (or paragraph, depending on the kid’s age) on why breaking the rule was wrong. 

“Alright, now that that’s over, let’s move on to our instrument time. I want to hear  _ everyone _ practicing from pages 13 and 14 in their recorder books,” she says, clapping her hands to get the kids moving. She itches to check her phone again. It’s Tuesday now, and she hasn’t heard from Beca since she left her apartment on Sunday. But, she can’t risk getting caught again, so she waits until the class leaves, and she has a free period.

_ “You’ve reached the mailbox of Beca Mitchell. You know what to do,” _ the voice says over the phone. Chloe frowns.

“Um, hi, Beca,” she says after the beep. “I don’t know if your phone is off, or dead, or whatever. But it’s Chloe, remember me? The gorgeous redhead you slept with but  _ just _ slept? Um… Meant what I said, and said what I meant? Chloe Beale’s faithful 100%? I haven’t seen you in a while, or heard from you… Guess I just miss your beautiful face, and your singing voice, y’know? Um, I’m a teacher, so I’m in class most of the time, but text me when you get this? Um, bye?” Chloe sighs, hanging up. She rolls out her shoulders, and resolves to get her work done now, and visit Beca later in the day.


	7. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca's not the most forthcoming with her problems

Beca has not slept in nearly three days.

She’s aware this is incredibly unhealthy. She’s tried to sleep, really! But every time she gets close, images assault her mind, and it’s like a violent flashback. Her body starts to shake, and she can feel the weight of all those bodies on her. Her arms start to ache where they gripped her, and she can practically feel them inside her all over again. She jerks her eyes open, needing to remind herself where she is. She pinches the palm of her hand to keep herself awake just to avoid the nightmares.

But she knows she can’t keep this up much longer.

She’s afraid of what will happen when she finally does sleep again.

 

_ Is this weird _ ? Chloe wonders, biting her lip as she stands just outside the elevator. She had gotten all the way up to Beca’s floor before having second thoughts, and stood outside the elevator.  _ I’m not, like, stalking her, right? I just want to check on her since she never texted me, _ she reasons, steeling her nerves and walking down the hall to Beca’s apartment. She knocks on the door three times before she loses her nerve again.

No answer.

“Beca?” she calls, knocking again. “It’s Chloe. I just wanted to check on you because you never called me back.”

“I’m fine,” a small voice calls back, not opening the door. Chloe bites her lip.

“Can I come in? I miss you,” she calls. No response. Chloe’s just about to knock again when she hears the lock turning, and the door opens just a crack.

“It’s really not a good time,” Beca croaks, her face just barely visible through the crack in the door. Chloe frowns, taking in her pale, sunken face, the heavy bags under her eyes.

“A-are you sure? You look tired, sweetheart,” Chloe whispers. “I just wanted to talk to you. I won’t stay long,” she promises. Beca bites her bottom lip, and Chloe can see the indents where she bit it so hard that it bled. Beca nods slowly, opening the door to let Chloe into the apartment.

“You didn’t have to come check on me; I’m fine,” Beca whispers as Chloe steps in, enveloping her in a hug. Beca stiffens at first, and Chloe is about to pull away when she feels Beca lean into it, hugging her back.

“I’m your friend. I missed you, goofball,” Chloe whispers. “Are you sure you’re fine? You look like you haven’t slept.” Beca just shrugs, pulling back, avoiding Chloe’s eyes. “You haven’t slept, have you?” Chloe asks, softer now.

“I’m not tired. Are you thirsty?” Beca moves to the kitchen. “I’ve got coffee, and I can make you a pot.”

“It’s nearly four in the afternoon. If I drink it now, I won’t sleep,” Chloe giggles. “But water is fine.” Beca just shrugs, getting a glass. “You should drink some, too. Make sure you’re getting enough water. When’s the last time you ate?” Beca shrugs.

“Um, I don’t know, like, dinner last night, maybe?” she mumbles.

“You need to eat something,” Chloe admonishes her. Beca rolls her eyes.

“I’m a grownup, Chloe, I can take care of myself,” she growls.

“I’m your friend, making sure you  _ do _ take care of yourself. And myself. I’m ordering us food. Pick your poison: pizza or Chinese?” Chloe glances at her phone, pulling up the contact group for the local takeout places.

“Pizza,” Beca mumbles. Chloe grins at her, making herself at home on the couch, turning on the TV. “I like pepperoni.”

“A girl who likes the classics? Mmmm, a girl after my own heart,” Chloe grins, putting the phone up to her ear as it rings. Chloe nudges Beca with her foot, pointing to her still-full glass of water while she orders. Beca rolls her eyes but takes a long swig from the glass.

“Happy?” she asks. Chloe just hums, hanging up.

“Ecstatic. Now, do you want to help me grade papers?” Chloe pulls out her bag.

“You’re a music teacher. Why the hell are there papers to grade?” Beca scoffs, but takes a stack.

“Because I need data to be evaluated. It sucks, but I just assign them a paragraph or a worksheet after we learn about a new music style, or technique. This week, we learned about the piano. Fascinating, right?” Chloe laughs.

“Ew,” Beca says, wrinkling her nose. Chloe smiles at her. “How do I grade these?”

“Okay, so you’ve got my fifth graders. The reading is attached, so check for the right answers. Oh! And make sure they use full sentences. If they didn’t write a full sentence, make a mark, and I’ll write a note for the kid later,” Chloe explains. They chat amiably as they correct the papers and watch TV, occasionally stopping to show each other the silly answers kids gave, until the pizza comes.

“Oh, this is so good,” Beca groans through a mouthful, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“When did you last sleep?” Chloe asks, scooting closer to Beca. Beca shrugs, squirming around until she makes herself more comfortable, leaning against Chloe’s body.

“When you left,” she mumbles, eyes glued to the TV, even though it was just a dog food commercial.

“That was three days ago!” Chloe shrieks. Beca winces. “Sorry, I just… Beca, you have to sleep!” she says, maintaining a lower volume.

“I  _ know _ that, Einstein,” Beca growls, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, don’t get snippy with me just because you’re tired!” Chloe warns her. “Now, I am not leaving here until you sleep, okay?”

“No, you have to go home,” Beca insists.

“Why?”

“Because… I… You, um, you have papers to grade,” Beca argues weakly. “I don’t want to disrupt your life.”

“You know, Beca, I have this friend, Aubrey, and she has this girlfriend Stacie. Aubrey goes away for business sometimes, and when she does, Stacie has trouble sleeping. So, when Aubrey leaves, I stay at their place. Sometimes, Stacie would fall asleep basically in my lap- she likes to snuggle when she sleeps- and I’ll just sit with her, and correct my papers. I do this for my friends, Becs, because I know that they need sleep,” Chloe whispers, brushing her hands through Beca’s hair. The girl whimpers, leaning into Chloe and closing her eyes.

“I’m so  _ tired _ ,” Beca croaks, her voice breaking. Chloe takes the empty plate, putting it on the coffee table, and she pulls Beca’s head onto her lap, stroking her cheek with the back of her hand.

“It’s okay,” Chloe assures her. Beca closes her eyes, curling into a ball, her head on Chloe’s lap. “Just close your eyes… I’ve got you. If you start to have bad dreams, I’ll wake you. Just sleep, Becs.” Chloe bites her lip, running her hands through Beca’s hair. Beca relaxes into her touch, and her breathing starts to slow. She hums until Beca is completely asleep, then pulls a stack of papers over, and corrects them, one hand still stroking Beca’s hair.

 

Beca wakes feeling better than she has in ages.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Chloe murmurs, her own voice heavy with sleep.

“What time is it?” Beca croaks, reaching for her water glass.

“Um,” Chloe mumbles, searching for her phone. “Crap. It’s two AM. I fell asleep, too. You mind a sleepover?”

“What about school in the morning?” Beca mumbles, already closing her eyes again.

“I have an alarm. I’ll just set it for a little earlier, y’know? Now, come on,” she says, pulling herself to her feet. Beca whines. “Sleep in the bed, Beca, come on,” Chloe laughs, pulling a stumbling Beca into the bedroom. She falls face first onto the mattress, groaning dramatically.

“So tired,” she groans into the bed. She feels the mattress dip as Chloe climbs onto the bed, curling around Beca. Beca slides up to meet Chloe. Chloe slides one arm over Beca’s waist, the other behind her neck, intertwining their fingers. She loops one leg around Beca’s, pulling her closer. When Chloe breathes, Beca can feel her chest rising and falling against her back. It becomes a rhythm that she counts.

Steady. Unchanging.

_ In… two… three _

_ Out… two… three _

_ In… two… three _

_ Out… two… three _

Slowly, Beca can feel the rhythm lulling her back to sleep.


	8. Getting Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about baby steps.
> 
>  
> 
> TW for panic attack

Beca wakes the next morning to an empty bed.

_ Oh god. Did I imagine Chloe coming last night? _ She whimpers. It had felt  _ so _ good to sleep, and when Chloe held her… She felt like all of those sharp edges had smoothed, and all of her loose pieces weren’t in danger of falling off anymore. The sound of her bathroom door opening startles her, and she sits straight up, rubbing her eyes to find Chloe standing, half naked.

“Sorry,” Chloe whispers. “I tried not to wake you. Any chance I could borrow this shirt today?” Chloe was wearing the same black pencil skirt and tights from yesterday, standing in just her bra while holding out Beca’s long-sleeved red shirt that she only wore for one publicity event for work. 

“Yeah,” Beca croaks, her voice low and husky from sleep. She clears her throat. “Sorry, um, yeah, sure. You heading out?” Beca averts her eyes as Chloe goes about putting the shirt on, and she can feel her cheeks flaming, her throat dry.

“In a few minutes. Come on, I made breakfast, and coffee,” Chloe giggles.

“Coffee,” Beca nods, allowing Chloe to pull her to her feet. Once she’s settled on her couch with a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes (how Chloe found the ingredients for this in  _ her  _ kitchen- whose sole purpose is to house her leftovers, and frozen meals- Beca isn’t sure), she watches Chloe bustling around, repacking her bag and her papers.

“What are you doing today?” Chloe asks, glancing at Beca. Beca shrugs. 

“I should probably get back to work soon, but, uh, not today. I don’t usually work on Wednesdays,” she mumbles into her coffee mug.

“You should come have lunch with me at school. I have a free period for lunch today, so we can go to this cute little diner around the corner,” Chloe calls, heels clacking on Beca’s hardwood floors as Chloe moves around, searching for something. Beca stiffens.  _ They’ll find you. They’ll get you. And even if they don’t, everyone who sees you will know you’re worthless. Trash. Used goods, _ the voices in her head hiss in unison.

“Um, I’m not… I don’t,” Beca stutters. “I don’t know if… Um, I-”

“Beca,” Chloe interrupts. “Have you left the apartment at all since Saturday?” Beca shakes her head, shame running through her at the way Chloe’s looking at her. “Well, a change of scenery can help… maybe? Have you taken a shower?”  _ I’ve taken nineteen showers, _ Beca snorts derisively in her head. “I’m sorry, did you just say you’ve taken  _ nineteen _ showers, Beca?” Chloe squeaks. Beca stills, fork halfway to her mouth. Hadn’t she said that in her head? Crap, she hates when she does that.

“Um, no?” she tries.

“Beca,” Chloe says warningly, and the way she comes back into the room, looking sternly at Beca makes her feel like a child being scolded by a teacher, and she feels an inexplicable need to explain herself.

“I just… want to feel clean,” she murmurs, putting her breakfast down to wrap her arms around herself. After a moment, Chloe’s gaze softens and she sinks into the couch next to Beca.

“Beca,” she sighs. Beca squirms away, not wanting Chloe’s pity. “Beca, it’s okay. It’s… Alright, I get it. But you should know… You are not damaged, or used goods just because things have happened to you. You are good, and sweet, and kind. I know it may not matter, but you  _ are _ clean. Okay?” Beca nods, but she can’t quite make herself believe it.

“What time?” Beca croaks.

“I’ll text you all the details, okay? I’ve gotta get going. I left you some more breakfast and coffee in the kitchen. Make sure you drink water, and text me!” Chloe smiles, squeezing Beca’s shoulder. She hesitates a moment before dropping a kiss on the top of Beca’s head, grateful Beca doesn’t flinch as she hurries back to her car. Which has been parked overnight in a no-overnight-parking spot. Fantastic.

 

Later that day, Beca is standing in front of her door, fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, keys in hand. She has the address for Chloe’s school, and money for the subway, plus a route of where she’d go. It’s fairly straightforward, and she knows Chloe is expecting her. But she can’t make herself move.

“You’ll be fine. Don’t be a wuss. Just go,” she hisses, closing her eyes.  _ Pathetic, _ the voices in her head sneer. Anger burns deep in Beca’s stomach, propelling her forward, down the stairs, and out the door. She’s halfway down the street when she passes Chloe’s building and she stops. 

For a moment, she can’t remember what time it is. It’s sunny, mid-day, like LA always is. But at that moment, it’s pitch-black, the middle of the night. She stalls, unable to separate past from present. People are walking by her, around her, but there was no one around when she needed them. Duelling images flash in front of her face. The churning in her stomach becomes worse, and she’s leaning over the gate in front of Chloe’s building, vomiting noisily on someone’s bushes.

“You alright, miss?” an older woman asks, touching Beca’s shoulder. Beca jumps away, hastily wiping the tears out of her eyes. “Miss?”  _ Does she know how worthless I am? I bet she knows. _ The thought is irrational, but it tugs at Beca, and she just nods nervously before the woman walks away.

She starts a brisk walk toward the nearest subway station, avoiding everyone’s gaze. She can’t help but flinch every time someone brushes by her, and wonder if they’re whispering about her. She can feel her chest tightening, and her vision is clouded by black spots. Whimpering, Beca makes it all the way through the turnstile before collapsing into a seat on the subway.

“You okay there, beautiful?” someone asks. Beca nods, though she can’t get a full breath. Her mind runs on two tracks, each playing over each other. It’s like when she’s trying to make a mix, bring together two conflicting noises. But she can’t even find a similar beat, nothing between these two sounds can mix. 

One is harsh, and angry: the voices of her attackers, jeering at her. They yell at her for being pathetic, weak, unwanted. She is worthless, and they are in control, even now. 

The other voice is strong, but gentle, and soft: it sounds something like Chloe’s voice. It’s quiet, nudging at her. Reminding her to drink the water she packed in her bag. Telling her to take a deep breath. It’ll all be okay. She can do this.

But the two voices are drowning each other out, and Beca still can’t breathe, and her hands are shaking when she stands to get off the train at her stop. She walks quickly, just trying to get to Chloe. If she gets to the elementary school, Barden Academy she thinks it’s called, then Chloe will be there. And for some reason, Beca knows that if she gets to Chloe, she can make this stop. 

Beca has to stop again to throw up, her hands shaking. Her heart is racing, her palms are sweaty, and she  _ can’t. breathe. _ It’s like there’s something inside her chest. It’s like a ring sitting around her lungs, a cold, metal ring that stops her. Every time she tries to breathe fully, inflate her lungs, it stops her, squeezing them. And she is left with short, shaky breaths.

“Hey, you okay?” someone else asks. Beca is panting, her entire body quivering.

“D-does i-it, oh G-god, l-look like I’m o-okay?” she grunts.

“Beca Mitchell, you’d better not be sassing my kids!” a voice shouts. Beca straightens up, her shoulders heaving as she struggled to breathe fully, only to find Chloe rushing over, a young boy leaning over a fence looking at Beca. “Robby, go back to recess, okay?” The boy shrugs and meanders away. “You’re early. And certainly not okay. Wow, um, let’s go. Janie? I’ll be right back, okay? Come on Beca,” she says gently, opening the fence that separates them, wrapping an arm around Beca and leading her away.

“H-hi,” Beca pants.

“I’m taking you to the school nurse, okay? I think you’re having a panic attack, and she can help. You know you’re about ten minutes early?” Chloe whispers, leading Beca through hallways covered in primary colors and pictures of animals and letters.

“S-subway. H-had to b-be early,” Beca grumbled. The nausea was gone now, and Beca wondered if her instinct was right; did Chloe make this better for her? And if so, why?

 

Turns out, Chloe was not the only thing Beca needed. She needed the nurse- who was thankfully on her lunch break, and able to help- to sit down. She put her head between her knees while Chloe rubbed her back. After a while, she could feel her breathing grow steadier, and the racing of her heart slow.

“You good?” Chloe finally whispers. Beca sits up, red-faced, wanting to scream from embarrassment. She wants the floor to open up and swallow her. How could she let herself fall apart like that at Chloe’s  _ school? _

“I’m good,” she mumbles, not meeting Chloe’s gaze. “Sorry I ruined our lunch plans.”

“It’s okay. We can still get some good old-fashioned school lunch. Eat in my classroom. Gotta get you officially signed in as a visitor, okay?” Beca just shrugs, nodding to the nurse as she follows meekly behind Chloe, who does most of the talking to the secretary in order to get Beca’s visitor’s pass. When they walk through the halls, Chloe keeps one hand on the small of Beca’s back, guiding her to the music classroom before sitting her down in a beanbag chair. Chloe folds herself down into another chair across from her.

“Beca,” Chloe says after a moment. 

“Hey,” Beca mumbles awkwardly, still not looking at her.

“You gonna look at me? While I do like this rug, I am much more interesting to look at,” she teases. Beca rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, but looks up at Chloe to find her biting her lip, looking almost nervous. Her eyes are drawn down, to Beca’s red shirt that Chloe had borrowed. It was a little small for Chloe, but in all the right places. “Told you,” Chloe giggles, and Beca’s eyes snap up to find Chloe’s twinkling mischievously as she giggles.

“Shut up,” Beca grunts, rolling her eyes.

“But seriously, Becs, are we gonna talk about what’s going on? You showed up shaking, throwing up, barely breathing. I’m worried.” Beca wants to shrug, roll her eyes, and stomp away. She had perfected the act in her teenage years: pushing away everyone’s attempts to help. It was just easier if she didn’t talk about things that upset her; it was ten times harder for her to put herself back together than it was for her to fall apart. But looking into Chloe’s eyes, she realizes she couldn’t do that to this woman.

“I just… There were so many people… And I didn’t feel good… But I said we’d have lunch… There were just… I don’t think I could handle it,” Beca whimpers, her voice breaking unexpectedly somewhere in her confession. Chloe reaches out, latching her hand onto Beca’s.

“That’s okay, Beca. You know, for future reference, if you’re not feeling well, you can call and cancel. I won’t mind,” Chloe says gently. They sit for a moment in silence before Chloe speaks again. “Do you like dogs?”

“Um,” Beca hesitates at how quickly Chloe had switched topics. “I mean, yeah. I haven’t had one since before my parents split,” she shrugs.

“You could get a service dog,” Chloe suggests brightly.

“I’m not blind,” Beca scoffs.

“Service dogs do more than that,” Chloe says, nudging her playfully with her toe. “Some can detect seizures, and stuff like that. You could get one for anxiety. It’s been proven that petting an animal can help lower blood pressure and heart rate, and stuff.” Beca bristles at the word  _ anxiety _ , but she can’t think of a better word. She literally just lost her shit, and why? Because she was outside? She’s ridiculous.

“I’ll think about it,” Beca sniffs.

“Hey now, no tears, my dear,” Chloe says gently, pulling Beca over to sit on her lap. Beca feels ridiculous snuggling into Chloe’s chest, biting her lip, and desperately trying to control her tears, but it feels good at the same time. “You’re okay, now. You’re okay,” she murmurs over and over as Beca breathes deeply. They’re silent for a while, breathing deeply until the door slamming open startles them.

“Hey Ms. Beale, I grabbed those lunches- oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” a voice says loudly. Beca jerks upright, hastily wiping at those stray tears on her cheeks as she jumps back to her own beanbag, refusing to meet the eye of the tall, thin brunette standing in the doorway.

“Emily, you can call me Chloe, remember? Becs, this is Ms. Emily Junk. She’s a college junior, an elementary ed major with a music specialty. In a few years, she’ll be doing what  _ I _ do,” Chloe grins. “Emily, this is my friend Beca Mitchell.” She’s interrupted from explaining further by the drone of the school bell.

“Do I have to go?” Beca asks quietly. If students are coming here for class, she probably isn’t allowed to stick around.

“Nah, I have a free period for the next hour. We can eat. Em, you need something?” Emily was standing there in the doorway, still holding the little plastic cartons of food in her hands, mouth open, staring at Beca.

“Oh, um, sorry, no. I just have your food. I can, um- you know what? I’ll go. Here, it’s on your desk, okay? I’m gonna… I’m going,” she says, dropping the food as she runs back out into the hall, slamming the door. Beca awkwardly stares at her feet until her stomach growls, a laugh bubbling out of Chloe.

“Come on, let’s eat. I promised lunch, and I always deliver on my promises,” she smirks, holding out a hand to pick Beca up, sitting across from each other at the desk as they share their mediocre school lunch.


	9. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery is all about baby steps. Beca has to learn this.

Chloe was a hugger.

And just as Beca was about to leave so that Chloe could start her class, she was pulled into a bone crushing hug. Chloe pressed her lips onto Beca’s cheek before pulling away, keeping hold of Beca’s arms, intertwining their fingers. Beca feels her slide a scrap of paper into her hand before she pulls away, leading Beca with one hand out to the front door, the scrap of paper between them.

“I got the numbers for a few good therapists in the area. I think you should talk to someone, okay? Maybe they can hook you up with a service dog, maybe they can just help you out. But please try, okay?” Chloe mumbles, finally pulling her hand away, leaving the paper.

“Okay,” Beca whispers. Chloe pats her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her cheek one more time before shoving a wad of cash at  her.

“For the taxi home,” she explains, scurrying away before Beca can protest. She turns, considering dropping the cash off in the main office. But she’s distracted by a horn honking, finding a cab waiting on the corner, for her, presumably.

“Ms. Beale had me call that, uh, for you,” a voice says, startling Beca. She turns to find the tall brunette, Chloe’s student teacher, stepping out of the office. “Hi, sorry, Emily Junk, remember? Um, she had me call, and tell you that you have to take it. She wanted me to give you this message. She says, ‘try for me, Beca. Feel better,’” she says, smiling as she reads the post-it note. Beca rolls her eyes, smiling.

“Thanks, kid. Thank her for me. I’d better get going,” she smirks, waving and running out to meet the cabby, giving him her address as he sets off into LA traffic.

 

Two days later, Beca’s sitting in a therapist’s waiting room, her leg bouncing nervously as she bites her fingernails. She had set up the appointment right after getting home, and was happy to keep it. Chloe had smiled when Beca told her yesterday; they had been grading papers in Beca’s living room before Chloe drove Beca to work. Beca hated feeling needy like this, but she didn’t think she could handle public transit again.

Beca had become a recluse ever since it happened, only leaving when she was with Chloe, or talking to the detectives, who had yet to find the last attacker. They knew his name- Eddie Bridges, Chloe couldn’t forget it- but they couldn’t actually find  _ him _ (LA was a big city, after all). Beca had gotten a taxi to and from work, whenever Chloe didn’t offer to drive, and most of her free time was spent on the couch with Chloe, grading papers, listening to recordings of the students practicing, and watching crappy TV shows. Beca was growing to love the time she spent with the school teacher.

“Beca?” A voice asks. Beca startles, standing as she wipes her hands on her jeans before reaching out to shake the woman’s proffered hand. Her therapist is a tall, thin woman with a hooked nose and dark brown eyes. Her auburn hair falls in loose waves around her face, and Beca can’t help but compare it’s darker color to Chloe’s vibrant red. She smiles at Beca, wrapping her navy blue cardigan around herself as she leads her down a hallway, past several closed doors, each numbered one through eight. As they walked, she was introducing herself, explaining the process, but Beca couldn’t focus.

_ You can do this _ , she insisted.  _ You promised you would try. Just one session. If you don’t like her, you don’t have to come back. _ Chloe had told her this; the first therapist isn’t always the right fit, and many encourage ‘shopping around’ to make sure the patient ends up with someone they’re comfortable talking to. 

As she leads Beca to the last room on the right, room number seven, Beca takes a deep breath. Seating herself on the simple tan couch, she smiles at the doctor, who’d introduced herself as Kate. She can do this. She repeats this mantra all throughout the session.

 

“Yeah, usually I drag Aubrey or Stacie with me to volunteer,” Chloe giggles, pulling on Beca’s arm. A week after Beca’s first appointment with Kate (a rousing success: they had talked for the entire two hours, always moving on when Beca started to clam up), Chloe had begged Beca to come volunteer with her, having spent the past two days researching PTSD and anxiety disorders to help Beca. Chloe had decided that she had to be responsible for making sure Beca ate, and drank water, and took care of herself since it often seemed to slip by the wayside when people are struggling with PTSD. 

Beca had talked with Kate about her issues with other people, and they’d decided Beca should start small. Volunteering at an animal shelter seemed small enough, so Beca had agreed.

“And you just come here to… what? Pet the animals?” Beca teases, nudging Chloe’s side as reaches over to put the car in park.

“Basically. Sometimes we take the dogs for walks around the facility. We’ve helped train some, or reinforce the training in others. We pet cats that need to be socialized. We help with feedings, and stuff. I once helped a family pick out their new pet kitten. It’s pretty cool,” Chloe sighs, resting her hands on the steering wheel as she waits for Beca to undo her buckle. In reality, Chloe just wanted to give Beca a chance to relax around the animals. She wants Beca to experience the soothing touch of an animal and reconsider adoption. According to her research, therapy dogs are really good with relieving PTSD symptoms. 

Beca is hesitant, fiddling with the belt as she stares at the dashboard as if reconsidering the entire outing. Chloe doesn’t want to push her out of her comfort zone too soon, lest it cause another attack. “Becs,” Chloe says softly. “We can go back to your place if you don’t want to do this today.” Beca takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“It’s just playing with animals,” Beca says softly, reassuring herself as much as responding to Chloe. “I can do this. It’s all about baby steps, right?” Chloe nods warmly, taking Beca’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. They walk into the blocky gray and white building, hand in hand.

“Chloe! Perfect! I was hoping you’d come in today. Brought in a new recruit for us?” A bubbly dark-haired girl said, stepping out from behind the white counter. Beca is still staring at the monochrome waiting room, and array of pictures on the wall behind her, so she doesn’t notice Chloe nudging her until the dark-haired girl is right in front of them. Beca inhales sharply, taking a half-step back. “Chloe, who’s your friend?” The girl asks, oblivious to Beca’s reaction.

“Hi Ashley! This is Beca. She’s here to help out. What’ve you got for us today?” Chloe rocks back and forth on her heels like an excitable child, and Beca takes a deep breath, relaxing.

“We found a litter of kittens in an alley, and they need to be socialized before they can be considered adoptable. Oh, and we found a lost dog that we want someone to work with. He’s not violent, or angry, but he is stubborn. He won’t go for a walk with anyone, but we were hoping you could work that Beale magic.” She turns to Beca with a conspiratorial wink, “she’s our resident dog whisperer.”

“What do  _ you _ wanna do, Becs?” Chloe whispers, leaning into her friend.

“Whatever,” Beca mutters, digging the toe of her converse into the perfect, clean white tiles. 

“Let’s go see the kittens. We’ll let Beca get her feet wet before throwing her to the dogs,” Chloe grins at her own joke.

 

“You’re pretty good with this,” Beca compliments, trying not to be offended that the little gray, white, and orange speckled kittens were falling all over themselves trying to play with Chloe, while completely ignoring Beca. Chloe just smiles as she pets each kitten in turn, laughing when they whine after she moves on.

“Here, take that one, behind you. She’s been playing with your zipper for the past five minutes,” Chloe points out to the little orange kitten huddled behind Beca. When Beca turns, the kitten startles, falling over in its haste. Beca reaches out gently, holding her hand as the kitten finds the courage to sniff Beca’s fingers.

“It’s okay, little guy. Takes a minute to warm up to people,” Beca mumbles softly, scratching the kitten behind its ears. Chloe just watches as the kitten slowly, slowly makes it way into Beca’s lap before settling down, curling into a tight little ball. Chloe can’t help but smile.

“You should adopt him,” Chloe tells her. “Ashley said that one hasn’t warmed up to anyone yet. You could be good for each other.” Beca considers these words as the cat on her lap begins to purr. She’d never really been a cat person, preferring the comfort of a dog. Plus, cats had litter boxes, and she wasn’t good with that smell.

“Mmm, maybe, but I think we’re just meant to be… good friends,” Beca says gently, feeling her body relax as she continues to pet the kitten. They chat for a while, and eventually Beca’s kitten works its way over to play with Chloe as she bounces a string toy around. The kittens move over to play with Beca, too, once she starts tossing around the little balls with bells inside them. After a while, Chloe suggests that they move to go see the dog. Ashley leads them to the opposite side of the shelter, explaining more about this dog.

“Okay, so we found Rudy walking down a street all alone. He had no tags, he doesn’t have a microchip, and we don’t even know if that’s his real name. We tried finding his owner, but none turned up. We’ve had people trying to adopt him, but he just barks. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. He just refuses to let anyone near him,” Ashley says quickly. As soon as they pass by the dog kennels, excited yips fill the air and Ashley is shouting to be heard.

“Who names a dog Rudy?” Beca snickers. Ashley turns around, pouting.

“Jessica did,” she says simply before leading them down to the last kennel. This is the only dog who isn’t barking, just sitting. He’s a beautiful German Shepherd, ears perked up, alert, head cocked as he stares at the three women behind the glass.

“So, what do you want us to do with him?” Beca asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You could just take him out to the dog run, at first. He’s a really smart dog, knows lots of commands. He doesn’t seem to like playing, though. Or leash walking,” Ashley explains. “Sound good?” Beca nods, and Chloe, waiting to see Beca’s response, joins in. “Alright. Hang on one second. This hallway is closed off so that the only exit is to the dog run, so we just open that door, then open his door, and he goes right out.” Ashley jogs off to secure the door through which they had entered, presses a button, and another door slides up, leading to the outside. Chloe giggles, leading Beca through it and into a fenced in yard area in the back of the building. Beca can see the city streets, parking lots, and bustling passersby through the chain link fence, but she’s trapped inside. Stuck.

“Hi Rudy!” Chloe exclaims as the dog comes padding gently out. He ignores her in favor of finding a spot to go to the bathroom before he just walks around the area. The door shuts behind them with a clang, and Beca startles, her breathing picking up. She’s trapped, just like in her dream last night. She’s stuck here, pinned down, just like those men did to her. She lets out a whimper, but Chloe is trying to get Rudy’s attention, and doesn’t notice. When Beca’s labored breathing turns into complete hyperventilation, on the way to another panic attack, Rudy just trots over, nudging her hand with his nose.

“Becs, you okay?” Chloe asks, stepping closer. Rudy lets out a sharp, loud bark, blocking Chloe’s attempts to get closer to Beca.

“H-hey, d-dude,” Beca pants, kneeling down, petting the dog with one hand. Rudy nudges her shoulder with his snout until she’s sitting on her bottom, legs splayed in front of her.

“Hey, Rudy-” Chloe starts. He turns, giving another short bark, and turns back around, laying himself across Beca’s lap. She continues to pant, crying now, and Chloe doesn’t know what to do. She briefly considers getting Ashley to retrieve Rudy so she can help her friend. But then, Rudy is standing again, nudging Beca’s shoulder until she’s lying flat on her back, and Rudy crawls forward, laying on her torso. Beca reaches her arms around, petting him. She’s not sure why, but this feels nice. He’s a heavy, sturdy dog, but the weight of him on top of her is helping her breathe. It’s like she’s drowning, and he’s acting as her life vest, helping keep her head above water. Slowly, very slowly, Beca’s breathing calms down, and she opens her eyes, not even remembering when she had closed them.

“Good boy, Rudy,” she sighs, patting his head. “Good dog,” she repeats. She sits in silence for a while before he moves, panting happily as she sits up, still scratching his chest.

“Okay,” Chloe says, startling Beca. She notices that Ashley is standing next to Chloe now, both watching her. “Now you  _ have _ to adopt this dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the dog? yes... no? I was going to have Beca get a certified therapy dog but when I did the research, it's a lengthy process. Too much work for her to go through, so she just happens upon this cool dog who's pretty awesome, and probably has the right training to be a therapy dog.
> 
> What'd ya think?


	10. In Silent Screams and Wildest Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s woken by the sound of wood breaking. She shoots straight up, confused that she’s slept for more than four hours without dreaming, but is distracted by the sound of footsteps in her living room/ kitchen area. She doesn’t have a chance to react before her bedroom door slams open, and then Beca freezes in fear

“So, you can hold him while I figure this out?” Beca confirms. Ashley nods.

“Totes! It’s unlikely we’ll have anyone else who can get through to him like you did. Talk to your landlord, get what you need, and give us a call. We’re really glad you came today,” Ashley explains. Beca nods as Chloe says her goodbyes to her friend, and gets back into Chloe’s car. She doesn’t know how she got roped into adopting Rudy- ugh, she’s definitely changing his name- but she has a feeling she’s going to like this decision. 

 

“Beca, come on,” her landlord Barry griped. He was a short, plump, bald man with a thick New York accent reminiscent of his twenty five years in the big apple. “You’re a good tenant, I like ya, kid. Always pay on time, never causing problems. But a dog? A German Shepherd?” Beca’s cheeks reddened, but she remembered what Chloe had told her before she went into Barry’s office.

“Barry, he’s like… A service dog. A… a therapy service dog,” she mumbles, embarrassed by the statement. “He’s not, like, registered as one because he was a shelter pet, but we think he’s got the training. And I kinda… I kinda need him.” Beca grabs at the back of her neck, one hand on her hip. She can’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“Because of the attack two weeks ago?” He asks. Beca’s eyes snap up. “You come home all battered and bruised up. Your friends are talking about you getting attacked. I look in the papers and see a city-wide manhunt for the leader in a brutal gang rape of a girl two blocks away. I put two and two together,” he shrugs. His tone softens when he adds, “so tell me how you’re doing, kid.”

“Barry,” Beca whines. She had lived in this apartment for nearly three years, and gotten close with Barry. He’s like her older brother.  _ Much _ older, since he’s like, older than her dad. But still. “Can I get your signature on the form for the dog?”

“Get me proof from a medical professional that this dog will help you, and I’ll sign it,” he promises.

“You want me to get a prescription for a dog?” Beca deadpans. He nods.

“Don’t come back without it,” he warns her teasingly as she walks out.

 

Chloe goes home that night, but only after Beca assures her that she had an appointment with Kate on Monday, and they call to tell Ashley. Chloe doesn’t want to leave, since Beca is always exhausted, and she’s worried Beca won’t take care of herself. Beca doesn’t tell her that she only ever sleeps through the night when Chloe is there. It feels pathetic. They just met, and it’s far too early for Beca to be making grand declarations about how she can’t live without her (well, can’t sleep, but same thing). 

Suffice to say, she’s pretty surprised when she feels herself starting to fall asleep just an hour and a half after Chloe left. She isn’t surprised when she wakes up not long after, dripping in sweat, screaming, but the reason does startle her quite a bit.

 

She’s woken by the sound of wood breaking. She shoots straight up, confused that she’s slept for more than four hours without dreaming, but is distracted by the sound of footsteps in her living room/ kitchen area. She doesn’t have a chance to react before her bedroom door slams open, and then Beca freezes in fear.

He looks pretty much the same, but a little more ragged. He towers over her in his anger, his pale face sunken in, skin sagging. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his mouth was open, yelling at her. What really seals it for her is the spiked mohawk standing on end. He comes flying into the room, standing over her, feet bracketing her hips as he stands on the bed.

“You bitch,” he growls lowly. “You lying little slut.”

“N-no,” she croaks. How is he here? How did he get here? How did he find her?

“What, you think I didn’t take a peek at your licence when I took your wallet? You thought I wouldn’t keep tabs on you, you lying little bitch? You and that red-head whore. Maybe after I’m done with  _ you _ , I’ll go find her,” he sneers, lowering to his knees, still hovering on top of her.  _ Chloe _ , she thinks, panicking as he starts to undo his belt buckle. “Just say you want it, baby,” he purrs, leaning over her to tease her. “Say you want it, and we can leave little red out of this. You want it now just like you wanted it that night.”

“I d-didn’t want th-that,” Beca stammers, unsure where her sudden bravado is coming from. She isn’t on a TV show. Olivia Benson isn’t coming to save her, so she can’t afford to be flippant about this. He grabs for her hands, pinning them roughly above her head. He tightens his hands around hers, and she knows there will be a mark.

“Yes,” he hisses, “you did.” She’s crying, shaking her head. He  _ can’t _ make her say it. He can’t make her say she wanted it. “Say it, or I’ll kill you.”

“No,” Beca whimpers. She can hear his zipper being tugged down, and she knows she can’t do this. Not again.

“Say it. You wanted it then, just like you want it now. I bet your friend wants it, too. What was her name? Chloe? I do you, then her. We can do it three way style, if you like. I don’t mind sharing.” She can feel his hot breath on her neck, and she squirms.

“I d-don’t want it,” she pants. Damn, she could have used that dog right about now. He would probably bite this bastard.

“Liar!” He shouts, slapping her. “Say it, or I’ll kill you.” He yanks her out of bed by her shirt, kicking her legs wildly as she tries to fight him off. He just pins her against the door to her closet, one hand on her neck, her feet dangling off the ground. “Say it!” He shouts, hysterical now. But he’s crushing her windpipe, and she can’t get a word out. “Say it!” He just keep shouting, and she’s seeing stars. He’s still screaming at her when she passes out.

 

She wakes with a jerk, panting, her hands at her throat. 

“Oh God,” she pants, one hand on her chest. She jumps out of bed, running to her bathroom. She doesn’t even have a chance to turn on the light before she’s hunched over the toilet. Once she’s rinsed her throat out, she’s checking her neck for marks in the mirror, looking at her wrists.

“Just a dream,” she mumbles, sinking to the floor. The cool tile feels good on her skin as she tries to calm her racing heart. She closes her eyes. “It was just a dream.”

 

“So, Beca, how have you been since I last saw you?” Kate asks. Beca shrugs, bouncing her legs. Kate, who had been sitting with one leg crossed over the other, tapping a pen on her knee, points to Beca’s leg with the pen. “Nervous about something?”

“Bad dream last night,” Beca shrugs again, biting her thumbnail.

“Wanna talk about it?” Beca switches to chewing the inside of her lip. She takes a deep breath, rolling her hands out on her thighs.

“I dreamt that… the last rapist, the one they haven’t caught yet… I dreamt that he had found me. He, um, he broke into my apartment. And he wanted me to say that I wanted it. He said he’d hurt me… or Chloe,” she says. Kate just nods.

“That does sound scary. Are you afraid that he might find you?”

“Yeah, I mean, he stole my wallet. He’s got my licence, with my address. He could totally,  _ totally _ find me if he wanted to. And right now, there’s nothing to protect me,” Beca sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“Right now?” Kate prompts. Beca blushes.

“Well, like, Chloe took me to volunteer at an animal shelter the other day. It was supposed to be a baby step, you know? Not many people, but I was getting out there. And we met this dog that they found and he was kinda weird. Like, not violent, but also not like a normal dog. He just kind of hung out. But then I had a panic attack, and he took care of me. He nudged my hand, he kept Chloe away from me because I felt kinda… trapped, you know? Cornered. So, um, he helped me sit down, he helped me lay down, and he sat on top of my chest. It felt, like, good. I was, like, considering adopting him,” she explains, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck. Kate grins.

“You know, he sounds like he has service dog training,” Kate muses. “Those behaviors are all things that they do. They try to alert you when they can feel a panic attack coming on, they’ll nudge your hand. Try and alert you so you can get somewhere safe. It sounds like the dog was trying to block you from Chloe, give you space. You said you felt trapped?”

“Yeah, the dog run was fenced in, and I’d had a bad dream the night before about being trapped,” Beca nods. She can’t believe how quickly she’s opened up to Kate. Maybe it’s the little voice, one that sounds suspiciously like Chloe’s, that urges her to open up, to try, to get better.

“We’re gonna come back to the dream thing, okay? But, this dog laid down on you. That’s called deep-pressure therapy. Sometimes, the confinement and pressure can help people, and animals are very good with that. This helped you?”

“Mhmm,” Beca hums. “So, like, I want to adopt him because he helped me. But I live in an apartment. My landlord said if I get a doctor’s note that this dog can help me with psychological and emotional distress, I can get the dog.”

“Like a prescription for a puppy?” Kate smiles. Beca laughs.

“That’s what I said!”

“Right, so, I can do that. It’s easy enough.”

“Great,” Beca sighs. After the dream she’d had last night, she likes the idea of a guard dog to keep her safe.

“And, you’re aware of the responsibility that comes with adopting a dog? You have to feed him, walk him-”

“I’ve had a dog before. My parents gave me this speech when I was a kid,” Beca interrupts, smiling.

“Perfect. So, back to the dreams you’ve been having,” Kira says, clapping her hands.

 

“Yay! So, you’ve got all the paperwork,” Chloe giggles. Beca had called her as soon as she’d filled everything out. Chloe had just gotten out of class, and was still sitting in her classroom, squealing at the thought of a puppy. (Beca had argued that Rudy was at least 2 years old, and not a puppy, but Chloe said that every dog was a puppy in her book).

“Mhmm,” Beca mumbles.

“Can I be with him when you go to pick him up? Ooh! Are you doing it today? Can we do it right after school? We can take him to the park, and play with him, and love him,” Chloe squeals. Beca tries interrupting her.

“Chloe,” she says gently, but Chloe just keeps talking about all of the things they can do once they get the puppy. “Chloe. Chlo. Chloe!” Beca finally shouts.

“What?” Chloe sighs. “Too much?”

“I haven’t even gotten the signature from Barry. We need a leash, a collar, a tag, paperwork for a dog licence, a food bowl, a water dish, dog food, toys. Oh my God, maybe this is too much responsibility for me,” Beca sighs nervously. 

“Beca Mitchell! That dog will be good for you!” Chloe scolds. “We can go to the store together and get the dog stuff. Don’t you go back on this now.” Beca squirms.

“It’s Monday. Don’t you have school stuff? Assignments to grade? Friends? I feel like I’m eating up all of your time.”

“No, Bree, Stace and I have our Sunday brunch, and on Thursdays we do pub night. Some nights we hit trivia nights, other nights we do karaoke. Ooh! You should come! We could have so much fun! I could hang out with you and your friends. I’ve only met them in passing. I’d really like to get to know them,” Chloe continues, giggling.

“Yeah, um, we aren’t hanging out that much,” Beca mumbles, rubbing the back of their neck.

“Why not?” Chloe asks, and Beca can practically  _ hear _ the pout. Beca fidgets. In truth, she knew it was her fault. They were getting sick of Beca cancelling plans and making excuses. When they  _ did _ come over, Chloe was usually with her, and they’d get mad that she was ditching them for Chloe. Or, she’d be so withdrawn, and irritable, and miserable that they’d get frustrated and left. They barely even text her anymore.

“Um, ya know. Just… busy,” Beca lies.

“Well… okay, but we’re still going to go to the pet store. We can listen to the recordings the kids sent me on the way there, okay? Oooh  _ yay _ , I love puppies!” Chloe giggles. Beca can hear the car starting in the background. “Rudy will be so happy when you come pick him up.”

“We’re  _ so _ changing the name,” Beca snorts. She doesn’t realize she’s started thinking in ‘we’ and ‘us’ when she thinks about her life, her and Chloe.


	11. Secrets, Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone... And Beca's keeping plenty of secrets.

“Hey Becs, wanna hang out later?” Jesse calls as Beca starts to pack up her things. On Thursdays, their shifts always overlapped.

“Um, sure, Jess,” Beca smiles, glad her friends were trying to hang out with her again. It had been about a week since either he or Fat Amy tried to contact her. “I’m going out to some trivia bar with Chloe and her friends later. You and Amy should come.”

“Trivia? Never pegged you for a trivia bar kind of girl,” he says lightly, but she can hear the subtle edge. She  _ wasn’t  _ a trivia bar kind of girl. Until she met Chloe. “I get out at seven. Text me and I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Perfect,” Beca grins, ignoring the subtle dig. She would repair this friendship if it killed her.

 

“Yay! I get to meet your friends for real!” Chloe squeals when Beca calls her. “And you get to meet Bree and Stace!”

“Yep,” Beca says drily. Her eyes rove over to the bag from the pet store. She hadn’t yet picked up Rudy (she still needed to figure out a new name), and was waiting for the weekend when Chloe could come with her, and they could spend the day getting him acclimated.

“You’re looking at Rudy’s stuff again, aren’t you?” Chloe asks, jolting Beca out of her reverie.

“I’m not calling him Rudy. That’s a stupid name,” Beca scoffs. She didn’t even bother asking how Chloe knew. The redhead claimed she could interpret every sigh, every puff of air, every grunt that Beca made. Beca found it easier to just agree.

“Fine. How about Hunter?”

“Eh… I once dated a guy named Hunter. It’s a little weird,” Beca replies. Sure, she had dated Hunter, if only for two weeks in sixth grade, but still.

“Ajax?”

“Isn’t that the name of a dish soap? What about Rex?”

“Ugh, that’s very… pit-bull. Like, bald guy with a face tattoo and a rabid pitbull. Loki?”

“‘Not big on Marvel villains. Lucius?”

“Oh, and Harry Potter villains are better, Becs? How about Chance? Or Chase?”

“Harry Potter villains are always the best kind of villain. Fine. Maybe… Hans? That’s a German name for a German Shepherd, right? Or, like… Duke?” Chloe giggles. “What? What’s wrong with those names?”

“Nothing,” Chloe hums. “Those are good names. We can ask the dog when we pick him up on Saturday morning.”

“We’re asking the dog?” Beca asks, trying not to smile as she rolls her eyes. 

“Of course. He has to answer to the name, so he should have a say in it,” Chloe giggles. She puts the phone on speaker while she starts looking through her closet. Trivia night at the pub is usually pretty laid back, but Chloe wants to make a good impression on Beca’s friends.

“You’re so weird,” Beca laughs.

“Thank you very much,” Chloe hums. They’re silent for a few minutes, but it’s comfortable. Beca can hear Chloe flipping through her closets, the metal hangers scratching on the pole. Beca just sighs, picking at the fabric on her plaid shirt. Chloe had insisted that this place was pretty casual, so she wore the same thing she wore to work: black, high-waisted jeans, a black tanktop, and her purple flannel.

“You’re picking me up, right?” Beca asks. Chloe imagines Beca shrinking in on herself as she asks, nervous and resembling a little kid asking if her parents are coming back for her after day care.

“Of course!” Chloe assures her. “I’m just getting dressed now. I should be over there in about forty-five minutes.”

“Takes you that long to get dressed, Beale?” Beca teases, opening up her laptop. Forty five minutes is just enough time to watch an episode on Netflix, or maybe work on some of her mixes.

“Putting my clothes on, fixing my hair and makeup, plus driving? Yeah, it’ll be about forty-five minutes.”

“You’re putting on clothes while you’re on the phone with me?” Beca says, blushing. She closes her eyes for a moment even though Chloe isn’t actually there.

“Yeah, you’re on speaker. Why, Becs? Does it make you uncomfortable?” Beca can hear the way Chloe’s lips curl around the word, a teasing smirk enveloping her face. She can  _ see _ the way Chloe leans over the phone, her hair falling in her face. She’s smirking, crawling over the bed, in just a bra and jeans. Beca opens her eyes with a gasp. Why the  _ hell _ was she thinking about Chloe like that?

“Shut up, Beale,” Beca grumbles. “Just call me when you’re close.”

“Will do, doll face,” Chloe hums, hanging up. Beca just leans back against her chair, trying to breathe.

 

“Jesse!” Beca calls as soon as she sees him. He grins, giving a short wave as he moves across the pub. Beca had been sitting awkwardly with Chloe’s friends for nearly half an hour. The blonde, Aubrey, seemed to take an instant disliking to Beca. Her fiance Stacie, though, seemed to like her and made pleasant conversation. They seemed a bit of an odd couple, but clearly it was working for them, so who was Beca to judge?

“Be- _ caw _ !” He laughs. She chuckles, even though she hates it when he says her name like that. It’s better than radio silence, she supposes. He comes over, clapping her on the shoulder. Beca jumps more than she usually would, but Jesse doesn’t notice, just sidles over to the table of ladies.

“Hey guys, this is my friend Jesse Swanson. Jesse this is Aubrey, her fiance Stacie, and you’ve met Chloe,” Beca says awkwardly, gesturing at the women.

“Ladies,” Jesse drawls. 

“Oh, I bet you think you’re charming,” Stacie purrs, running a hand up and down Jesse’s arm. Aubrey glares at her fiance, kicking her under the table, but Jesse just grins.

“Oh, Beca can tell you. I  _ know _ I’m charming. Right, Becs?” He turns to grin at her and Beca just rolls her eyes. “Anyway. Now that I’m here, can we join in on the trivia? I may be pretty, but I know… like, a  _ lot _ . Super good at trivia.”

“You gotta put your phone on the table, pretty boy,” Aubrey says drily. “So you know you can’t cheat, right?” Jesse puts a hand on his chest, gasping as if horribly offended.

“I would  _ never _ !”

“Sure,” Beca chuckles. Chloe just giggles, pulling Beca back to sit next to her.

 

“So, we did the whole trivia thing. We’ve done a little getting to know each other thing. What’s left?” Jesse asks, taking a long, loud sip of his beer. 

“Could always go home? Chloe teaches elementary school,” Aubrey reminds him. None of them are drunk (it  _ is _ a work night, after all), but Aubrey was ever the conscience of the group.

“No, I was thinking… Current events? Like, check out that newscast over there,” Jesse argues, pointing to the TV set over the bar. Beca pales, recognizing the face plastered all over the screen. “I heard about this while I was driving over here. They’re looking for this guy, this guy who led a vicious gang rape of some girl. Terrible right?” Chloe’s eyes widen slightly, and she grabs for Beca’s hand under the table.

“Yeah,” Aubrey agrees, trying not to stare at Beca. “Terrible.” 

“You, um, you think they’ll find him?” Stacie asks, glancing at Beca every few seconds. Jesse, despite his boyish looks, and his goofy grin, was not stupid. He narrowed his eyes, watching the way Beca seemed to be struggling to breathe, how Chloe had gotten closer, how the other girls seemed to be watching her. He remembers the details of the case. Six men. Two weeks ago. The same time Beca was attacked, and Chloe saved her from… six men. Aubrey could see the exact moment Jesse put it all together. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped half an inch, and he let out a little gasp. But just as quickly, he coughed to cover it up, closed his eyes, and took a sip of his drink.

“You good, Jess?” Beca asks, her voice shaky. She hadn’t been paying attention when he realized, instead focusing on Chloe’s hand in hers.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. How about you? You don’t look so hot. That flu still kicking around?” He’s providing her with an out, a reason to leave. Gratefully, not knowing why he’d offer it, Beca accepts.

“Yeah, no it- it, um it must be,” she says, coughing a little. “I’m gonna grab a cab home. I’ll talk to you guys later? It was nice meeting you, Aubrey, Stace.”

“Oh hell no, Becs,” Chloe interrupts, jumping out of her seat as Beca stands. “If you’re not feeling well, I’ll drive you home.” Jesse wants to offer, too. But clearly Chloe knows what Beca’s been through. She can probably help Beca better than he can, so he lets her go.

 

“Thank you for staying,” Beca mumbles, half-asleep, into Chloe’s hair. It wasn’t the first time. Chloe had even kept a few extra things here at Beca’s just for the nights when Beca hadn’t slept in days, when she couldn’t close her eyes, when she was too afraid to be alone. They’d stay on the couch, some nights, having fallen asleep after watching TV, or grading papers together. But tonight, they went straight to the bed. Beca sat upright, stiff, terrified. It took a while for her to lay down, but as soon as she had, Chloe did, too. Beca wrapped her arms around her like a baby monkey, entangling their legs.

“Anytime, babes,” Chloe promises, just as close to sleep. God, she was going to be feeling this in the morning.

 

Beca hears it first, hypersensitive to any change in her atmosphere, now.

It’s a soft sound, clicking, metal shifting. The sound of a door being unlocked. The clicks are rough, like someone is picking the lock. Beca is paralyzed, a thousand different scenarios running through her head. Before she’s even thought it through, she’s shaking Chloe’s shoulder.

“Hmm, Becs?” Chloe groans.

“There’s someone trying to get in,” Beca whimpers. Chloe sits up straight, eyes wide. She jumps out of the bed, landing silently on the balls of her feet, like a cat.

“Get in the closet, Beca,” she orders, her voice quiet, but hard.

“Wh-what?” Beca mumbles. She can hear the scrape of wood as her front door opens. It expands in the heat, and whoever is coming in shoves their weight against the door. Beca squeaks, no longer questioning, and curls into a ball on the floor of the closet. She can’t breathe, thousands of horrible scenarios running through her head. But there is always one common theme: Mohawk Man, Eddie Bridges, has come for her at last. He had her address. Now he was breaking in. God, she should have just moved out. Oh  _ God _ , Chloe was out there right now, facing him. If something happened to Chloe, Beca could never forgive herself. Why didn’t she bring her phone? Why wasn’t she calling for help? Oh God, what was that sound? Beca can hear yelling, and a scuffle, then silence.  _ Shit. _


	12. Friends Tell Each Other Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys were so good about that cliffhanger... here it is! The resolution to it!

While Beca was hiding in the closet, Chloe was crouched in the doorway of the bedroom. Heart pounding, she searched for a weapon, something heavy or sharp. She could hear the front door creaking open, wood scraping.

“Oh my god,” Chloe whimpers, hearing footsteps approaching. She imagines Beca, curled up in a corner of the closet, scared out of her mind. She remembers what Beca looked like two weeks ago, naked and beaten to hell on the sidewalk. Somewhere deep inside of her, something grows in Chloe. It’s hot, boiling through her veins, scratching at her stomach, and it hurts her. She thinks it might be anger, or adrenaline. Right now, she feels like she could take on the world, and her hands ball up into fists. It’s like how mothers have been known to lift cars when their kids are in danger. Chloe feels superhuman, strong, and angry.

_ Protect her _ , she thinks to herself.  _ Whatever you have to do, you protect her. _

The footsteps are closer now, and Chloe crouches, just next to the door. When it opens, the first thing the bastard will see is Chloe’s fist in his face. The footsteps pause, just outside the bedroom door, and Chloe can’t wait. She yanks the door open, shoving herself right at his stomach, shoving him away from Beca, into the living room.

“Hey!” The bastard grunts. Chloe balls up her fists again, hitting him in the stomach.

“You stay away from her you… you… bastard, freaking rapist,” Chloe growls, stomping on his feet and kicking his shins. She finishes her statement with a fist to his face, hoping to end it in a blaze of glory. But she can only feel the crunch of bones, pain erupting in her knuckles. 

“Oh,” she gasps. “Oh, ow, ow, ow, ow, oh,  _ ow _ .” Chloe’s voice has gone up three octaves, and the man on the ground is groaning. Suddenly, the bedroom door opens.

 

“Damnit!” Beca hears the shouting through the door, and springs out. Only to find Chloe in the living room, standing over Jesse.

“What the hell happened?” Beca squeaks, watching as Jesse rolls over, clinging onto his nose. Thick red blood trickles through his fingers. “Come here, Jess, I’ll get you a towel for you nose, okay?” He groans, standing up as she grabs an old white towel, and he presses it to his face.

“I thought he was an intruder! I hit him! Oh,God, I’m so, so sorry Jesse,” Chloe squeaks, running to the freezer to grab an ice pack for the boy.

“I was just… Checking on you, Becs,” he grunts. “I was worried.”

“Worried about what? I’m… fine, Jesse,” Beca lies nervously. “If that doesn’t stop soon, we should go to the hospital. It could be broken. How’s your hand, Chlo?”

“S’fine,” Chloe grunts, pressing ice to it.

“Don’t you lie to me, Beca. Do you understand? I know. I  _ know _ . You’re not fine!” Jesse shouts, his voice nasally and clogged from pinching it with a towel.

“What… What are you talking about?” Beca whispers. Jesse winces, and Beca flinches.

“You were  _ raped _ , Beca,” he shouts. Beca backs away, shaking her head. 

“No,” she whimpers over and over again.

“Stop it, Beca. Stop lying!” Jesse shouts, but Beca just keeps whimpering, backing herself into the corner behind the couch. Chloe doesn’t know what to do, so she stays frozen. “I’m not an idiot, do you understand? I  _ know _ . God, why didn’t you tell me? Friends tell each other things, Becs! Does Amy know? Luke? Any of your friends? God, are we even really friends? I don’t think we are, Beca.” Beca’s shoulders are shaking now, trying to keep in her sobs. Dropping the ice, Chloe runs over, holding her hand out the way you would with a dog. Beca nods, and Chloe rushes to hug her as Beca starts to hyperventilate, gasping for air.

“Jesse, can you do me a favor and shut the fuck up?” Chloe hisses, leading Beca to the couch. He grunts, kicking at something on the floor. “Go sit down somewhere, okay? Come on, Becs, I’ve got you,” she whispers soothingly. Closing her eyes, Beca tries to remember what her therapist tells her to do when she starts to panic.

“Beca, I’m sorry,” she hears Jesse say as if he’s far away, like she’s underwater and floating away. 

“Back off,” Chloe barks. “Give her a second to breathe. Steady breaths, Becs, okay?” Chloe settles herself on top of Beca’s lap, straddling her. Leaning into her, Chloe tries to hold her down, keep her breathing. She can feel Beca’s chest heaving, trying to inhale. Her entire body is shaking. After a while, with the weight of Chloe pressing down on her, Beca finds a way to relax, get air in her lungs.

“Jesse,” she croaks. “Jess, man, I’m sorry. Is your nose still bleeding?”

“Yeah, but…” He sniffs, wincing. When he takes the towel away, Beca can already see a bruise forming. “Ah, but nothing. This fucking hurts.”

“We should get you to the hospital. It looks broken,” Chloe sighs. “And my hand hurts like a bitch. You know, no one ever tells you how much it hurts when you punch someone.”

“Oh, yeah, poor you,” Jesse mocks.

“Shut up, Jess,” Beca grumbles, pulling on boots. “You’re both in pain. I’m taking you to the hospital. And we can talk about… this…  _ later _ .” Jesse nods, and Chloe steps into her own shoes as they head out to Chloe’s car.

 

“I wanted to tell you, Jess,” Beca whispers sleepily. They had spent hours in the waiting room. Chloe had had to call out of work, it was taking so long, and they were finally getting to leave now, all bandaged up. Chloe was driving this time, despite the brace on her hand. “I just… I didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe if I, like ignored it it would go away, you know?”

“I get it,”Jesse sighs. They’d given him some pain medications, and he was a little… muddled. But Beca knew he was sincere enough.

“Mind if I crash at your place, Becs?” Beca nods at Chloe as they park on the street.

“Like a slumber party,” Beca agrees. It’s an unspoken decision that Jesse would be staying there, too. 

“Just like a slumber party,” Chloe  giggles, leading them all up into the elevator. Jesse lays on the couch while Chloe and Beca get back into the bed, wrapped around each other.

“Thanks for staying,” Beca whispers against Chloe’s back.

“Any time,” Chloe giggles. “Hey, since I have a long weekend, can we go pick up Rudy later?”

“Yeah, sure,” Beca sighs. “But his name isn’t Rudy.” Chloe just laughs sleepily, pulling the blanket tighter as they fall asleep. 

 

“Hey, Becs, what’s all this dog crap?” Jesse shouts. He only slept a few hours before bounding back into the bedroom, waking the girls. Beca kind of hates his enthusiasm.

“No,” she groans. “Coffee.”

“Made you some,” Jesse laughs, handing her a mug. She doesn’t even open her eyes until she’s downed half of the cup, not paying any mind to how it scalds her throat. “So, I found a dog collar, and a bunch of toys, and a leash, and some dog food and junk. I don’t know if that’s your newfound kink or…”

“Shut up,” Beca laughs, finally opening her eyes. Looking around, she finds Jesse sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the red collar up to his neck, and smirking. Chloe is gripping a mug of coffee, just inhaling it, sitting against the headboard right next to Beca. “I’m getting a dog. Going to pick him up today, actually.”

“Whoa, dude!” Jesse laughs. But she can see the way he rolls his shoulders back; it had been a habit he’d always had when he got stressed. “Guess there’s a lot you haven’t told me.”

“Yeah, Jess,” Beca sighs. “I guess there is. Let’s… Let’s talk about that, huh?”

“I’ll… Um… Go make breakfast. Shout if you need me, eh?” Chloe whispers, awkwardly slipping out of the bed. She grabs Beca’s bathrobe as she leaves, tying it around herself. They wait until the door is shut before either of them speaks.

“So, you hitting that now?” 

“No!” Beca hisses. “She’s just… She’s been there. I told you. She saved me, and she stayed with me, and she kept coming around to check on me, and… I guess we’re friends. Y’know?” She can feel herself blushing, and Jesse just smiles at her.

“Alright, alright, it was a fair question.” He clears his throat, watching her drink her coffee. “So, can we talk about why you felt you couldn’t tell me?”

“You know I don’t… I don’t do the whole feelings thing, dude,” Beca whispers. “And this was… Terrible, okay? I feel like crap. All the time. I feel like a piece of trash. Used up, and dirty. I didn’t think you guys deserved to be around me. So, I cut myself off. Don’t take it personally, I do it with everyone.”

“You think I don’t know that by now, Becs? But you’re not doing it with Chloe. Or those other girls. How come they know and I don’t?” The anger is clearer now.

“I never told them anything,” Beca growls.

“Well they know!”

“I didn’t tell them anything! Why are you yelling at me?!” Somehow, they’ve both stood up, but neither remembers it.

“Because I’m in love with you and you push me away!” He roars. Beca takes a step back.

“Jess, come on. We… We talked about this… That was high school,” she whispers, wrapping an arm around her stomach, the other looping up around her shoulder. She’s flashing back to the summer after senior year when they had this same conversation. Her eyeliner was considerably thicker, and her shirts were tighter. They’d dated from junior year onward, (yeah, yeah, their friends kind of pushed them together; it was a thing, let’s not be dicks about it, okay?), and it ended that summer. He had a lot more… feelings than she did. “You said we could be just friends. I… I  _ like _ having you as my friend.”

“I know… I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Fuck,” Jesse sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I love you. As a friend. Or, like, a sister, or whatever. And I’m upset because you were hurt and you didn’t tell me. And I’m kind of scared. If I’m scared, you must be freaking terrified.” Beca snorts.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“So… Are you going to tell Amy? Or Luke?” Jesse sits back down onto the bed, and Beca lays on her back, pursing her lips.

“Dunno,” she shrugs. “Maybe.” They sit in a comfortable silence. “So, you don’t think I’m a dirty, used-up, whore, piece of trashy shit?”

“I think you’re a piece of shit, but not because of this,” Jesse teases. Beca laughs, and they lapse back into silence. The only sound is Chloe, puttering around in the kitchen as she sings, presumably making breakfast.

“So, what’re you naming this dog?” Jesse finally asks. Beca barks out a laugh.

“I don’t even know yet. I have to ask the dog,” she giggles.

“You have to ask the dog,” Jesse says seriously.

“Obviously.” Beca sits up, smiling at him as she chews on her thumbnail. They’re just sitting there in silence, staring at each other, when Chloe knocks on the door, poking her head in. 

“So, it’s like, noon, so I made lunch. Grilled cheese doesn’t taste too good if you let it sit and get soggy, so you might want to come eat,” she chirps. She spins around, dancing her way back to the kitchen. Jesse stands, pointing to her.

“You sure you’re not hitting that?” He stage-whispers. Beca’s cheeks burn as she hears Chloe’s giggle.

“Hate you,” she mouths.


	13. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We get the dog! And also... some stuff happens? Sorry? Like, not fluff stuff?

“I still can’t believe you’re adopting a  _ dog _ ,” Jesse laughs. He was pulling on his boots, ready to head to the radio station for his shift. Beca had called Luke, taking the week off of work to train the new dog, and he had been just as surprised as Jesse was.

“What’s so unbelievable?” Beca asks, frowning.

“You just… don’t seem like a dog person,” he says after a pause.

“Well, I really like this dog. I’m attracted to how jaded and sarcastic he is about everything,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Becs, he’s a  _ dog _ ,” Jesse reminds her.

“He’s  _ my _ dog, and I’ll kindly thank you to not be so disrespectful when you meet him.”

“Fine,” Jesse laughs, putting his hands up in surrender. “Call me once you’ve named him,” he calls, kissing her forehead as he runs away. Beca grimaces, but smiles once he’s out of sight, glancing down to see Chloe had texted her and pulled the car around.

 

“So, the paperwork seems to be in order,” the woman behind the counter, Jessica, smiles. She looks back up at Beca. “All we need is a name for the paperwork.”

“We haven’t… uh, haven’t really narrowed it down yet. We wanted to let the, um, dog have a say,” Beca mumbles, embarrassed. Jessica just continues smiling.

“Of course! It  _ is _ his name, after all. So, why don’t you go take him out to the dog run, interact. Run some suggestions by him. Whenever you’re ready, bring him out, and we can finish the paperwork off, and he’ll be all yours.” Chloe’s practically bouncing now as she follows Jessica down the hall. She had insisted on bringing in a chew toy and a ball for the dog, leaving Beca to carry the leash and collar. They had settled on red for the leash, and a red collar with black dog bones on it.

When they enter the hallway filled with dogs, the chorus of barks begin. Beca pinpoints on the excited yips coming from Rudy/ Dog-Who-Has-Yet-To-Be-Named, and smiles, going right over to him. He sticks his tongue out, his whole body wiggling as Beca puts her finger through the gate so he can lick it. While Jessica secures the door and opens the exit to the dog run, Beca opens the door. 

“Hey, dog! Wait for me!” Beca laughs, chasing after him as he runs out the door. This is a far cry from the stubborn dog who ignored them when they first visited. He still retains his quiet dignity, trotting around the outdoor yard. Ignoring all of the toys, he sits, wagging his tail and waiting for Beca to approach. Chloe has none of his dignity, running over to him squealing. His tongue lolls out of his mouth as she embraces him.

“Oh, who’s such a cute little boy? You are! Yes, you are!” Chloe coos, petting him. He whimpers, watching Beca approach before running over to her, nudging her hand.

“Hey, dude,” Beca grins, kneeling down to pet him. “So, you need a name. I’m gonna run some suggestions by you. Stop me if you hear something you like, hmm?” In response, the dog barks once, short and sharp, like he’s actually answering. Beca doesn’t notice the way Chloe giggles and takes out her phone. “Rudy.” The dog just tilts his head. “Hans?” Nothing. “Duke.” He lolls his tongue out again, so Beca stores that name to try again later. “Chief?” Still no real response. “Um, running out of names here, dude. How about… Buster?” Chloe lets out a giggle.

“Try Max!” She suggests.

“Max?” Beca asks, raising an eyebrow. He snorts and shakes his fur out, as if shaking his head. “Baxter?” 

“Fletcher?” Chloe calls out. The dog turns to her, and yips, his tongue lolling out in a smile. Beca adds that to her list of finalists.

“Tucker?” Immediately, he reacts, standing up. He barks happily, getting down on his front paws while sticking his tail in the air, wiggling. He jumps up, barking again. “Tucker?” Beca repeats, and he jumps, putting his front paws on her shoulders as he stands.

“Come here, Tucker!” Chloe calls, and he bolts over to her, licking her face. “Fetch, Tucker!” She throws the ball they’d bought for him and he bounds after it. It’s only while he’s retrieving it that Beca notices Chloe’s phone as she giggles.

“You recorded that?” Beca whines, and Chloe nods, finally stopping the video as Tucker comes trotting back, tail wagging with the ball in his mouth. He drops it at Beca’s feet. “Let’s go, Tuck. Time to get you home.”

 

Chloe sits on the floor with Tucker while Beca finishes off the paperwork, and listens as Jessica recommends various veterinarians, and his medical records. He’s an obedient dog, and Chloe finds herself running through some tricks while they wait.

“Tuck’s a  _ genius _ , aren’t you boy?” She coos as Beca finally finishes and they fit him with his new collar, taking him out to the car. Beca sits in the front and he whines as he settles directly behind the center console, resting his head on her hand. “So, where to?”

“The pet store. We need to get him a tag with his name on it,” Beca says immediately, scratching behind his ears. Sudden realization hits her: this is  _ her _ dog, now. Not her parents’. Not a family pet.  _ Hers. _

“We wouldn’t want to lose our genius,” Chloe grins. “He’s so smart, Becs. He knows so many tricks.”

His obedience is proven by how quiet he is in the car, content to sit still and let the girls chat idly. When they get to the parking lot, he waits until Beca calls for him before jumping out. He sticks right by her side, or a few paces in front of her as they walk through the store. While other dogs bark at him or pull at their leashes, he stands still, waiting to sniff them.

“So, now what?” Chloe asks as they leave. Beca shrugs.

“Let’s take him to the park,” she decides. Tucker perks his ears up at this, and sticks his head out the window as they drive.

 

Beca and Chloe are wandering through the trails at the park while Tucker bounds ahead, checking for traps or foes, before bounding back to them.

“So, I took this whole week off. I think me and Tuck need some quality bonding time,” Beca sighs. It had started to rain lightly as they drove to the park, so Chloe was holding an umbrella over them. “He’s such a weird dog,” she adds, laughing as he runs back to her, wagging his tail and sniffing her hand before running as far ahead as the leash will let him. He runs with his nose to the ground, tail up as he inspects every plant, every stick, and every leaf in their path.

“He’s protecting you, making sure the path is clear,” Chloe defends, pouting. “He’s a good dog.” When he returns this time, he licks Chloe’s hand, too, as if he knows that she was defending him just a moment ago.

“He’s pretty cool,” Beca agrees. They amble along in silence for a while. “So, how are your kids? What instrument are we learning about this week?” Chloe laughs.

“Oh, we’re actually learning about different music styles now. We’re listening to a lot of jazz right now, so I’m trying to partner with the gym classes to teach them swing dancing. And maybe next week, when we learn about country and folk music, we can square dance or line dance. I can’t wait to play Dixie Chicks for these kids.” Chloe bounces around, linking her arm with Beca’s as they walk. Beca turns to smile, playfully rolling her eyes.

“You and the Dixie Chicks,” she mumbles.

“You better not be insulting my girls,” Chloe warns.

“Oh no, never,” Beca laughs sarcastically.

“Because your music is  _ so _ much better.”

“It is,” Beca states, nodding. Chloe has her mouth open, ready to protest when they’re interrupted by Tucker barking. They stop, looking up to see him with his head lowered, ears flat against his head, hair on his back spiking up. He’s growling lowly, trotting back to stand closer to them.

“Tuck?” Chloe asks. He barks louder now before going back to growling.

“Tucker,” Beca says sternly, giving him a sharp tug on the leash.

“Just doing his job,” a voice calls out. Beca stills, whimpering as he comes crashing out of the woods. His clothes are wrinkled, ripped, and caked in dirt. His hair is limp and lifeless, and he’s wielding a knife. Eddie Bridges. Mohawk Man. “Protecting his owner from the things that go bump in the night. Hi, babe.” He grins at her, shrugging. 

“Go away,” Chloe calls out, stepping in front of Beca. Tucker, in turn, steps in front of Chloe trying to force them backwards. He bares his teeth at the man as he hops out of the underbrush, approaching them. “Leave, and we won’t call the police!” Chloe’s hand is in her pocket, trying to trigger her voice control. She hears a soft beep indicating it’s working. “ _ Calling the police _ is not what we need to do,” she repeats. He laughs.

“Nah, you won’t call the police,” he chuckles. Chloe can hear the ringing in her phone.

“You’re Eddie, right?” She asks once she hears the voice of someone on the other line. “Eddie Bridges. That’s your name. Look, Eddie, let me and Beca go. Please. No one has to know.” She says all of this louder than she normally would, praying that the person on the end of the line is tracking her, or can at least hear her.

“Chloe, am I dreaming?” Beca whimpers from behind her.

“Beca, we are getting out of this,” Chloe whispers fiercely. Loud enough for the 911 responder to hear, she adds, “we’re not afraid of you, Eddie. We’re not afraid. Even though you raped Beca. And you have a knife. And we’re all alone out here in the woods. I’m not afraid of you.”

“Aw, Beca shouldn’t be afraid of me,” he laughs, dancing closer to them. “I didn’t rape her. She wanted it, right babe? She was just teasing us, playing hard to get.”

“No,” Beca chokes out. His demeanor changes immediately. He grimaces, his shoulders squaring up, and he straightens his back. Taking a step closer, he holds out the knife in warning.

“I’m not afraid to make you see reason,” he growls. Tucker growls in response, lunging out with teeth bared. Eddie slashes down with the knife, and Tucker jumps to the side, yelping before lunging again to try and bite his leg. “Call off your mutt or I’ll kill him!”

“Tucker, no!” Beca shrieks, yanking on the leash. He retreats back to his defensive position, still growling.

“Send the mutt away, and the adults can talk,” he says playfully, still laughing.

“Eddie, please. Put the knife down!” Chloe pleads. She thinks she can hear faint sirens in the distance, but this is a park just outside of LA. And there are a lot of sirens in LA.

“Get out of here, red. You have no business here. This is between me, and my girl,” he orders. Chloe shakes her head. The sirens are louder now, and he glances away, getting nervous. 

“Stop, police! Drop the weapon!” A voice barks. Chloe’s entire body sags in relief as police officers come out of the woods, surrounding them. When they pass the girls and Tucker, another officer ushers them backwards, taking them into the safety of the waiting ambulance, checking them. They don’t see the way the conflict ends. Beca can hear shouting in the distance, and an errant gunshot. When the officers come back, marching a struggling Mohawk Man between them, Beca turns away, burying her head in Chloe’s shoulder.

“Ma’am?” The paramedic asks. “I cleaned off your dog’s wound, but he should be seen by your veterinarian?”

“He’s hurt?” Beca croaks, finally looking up.

“Just a little cut on his snout, see? He’s a very brave boy for protecting you. Yes he is, yes he is,” the woman coos, scratching behind Tucker’s ears.

“He’s my very good dog,” Beca agrees softly. Tucker whimpers, nuzzling her hand. She takes hold of his snout carefully, inspecting the cut. “Let’s get you home now, Tuck.”


	14. We All Make Our Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In life we all make choices. Up or down. Left or right. Yes or no. Beca and Chloe have made theirs. As have some other people...

Of course, they didn’t go straight home. Even though the EMT swore the cut on Tuck’s snout was clean and didn’t require stitches, it freaked Beca out. They drove straight to the vet Beca had picked out for Tuck. His first appointment wasn’t until next week when he was supposed to get his shots and and a check-up. Chloe had called ahead while Beca sat in the back with Tuck draped over her lap.

“You’re okay, Tucker,” she whispers soothingly, careful not to touch his face. He just whines lowly, rolling over so she scratches his belly. Thankfully, the traffic is light and they get to the vet easily. The veterinarian, an older man named Dr. Kelly, took Tucker into the back to get a better look at the cut, leaving Beca and Chloe in the waiting room.

“I can’t even keep a dog safe,” Beca mumbles, kicking at a clump of fur on the ground. Chloe comes up behind her with a gentles hand on her shoulder.

“That wasn’t your fault. He’s a psycho, and Tucker was just trying to protect you. But you realize that it’s over now, right? The cops have all of them,” Chloe whispers, wrapping her arms around Beca, hugging her from behind. 

“It isn’t over,” Beca corrects her. “There’s gonna be a trial.”

“Unless they take a plea,” Chloe hums. Beca just shrugs, and Chloe lets go.

“Even if they take a plea, this isn’t over. It will never be over. Not for me, you get it?” Beca’s voice is harsher now and she paces the room. 

“I didn’t mean to be insensitive, Beca,” Chloe whispers, just watching Beca go.

“I know,” Beca mutters, deflating. “I just… I was talking to Kate and she said this isn’t going away anytime soon. It’s kind of freaking me out. I don’t… I don’t want to deal with this anymore. It’s so  _ hard. _ ”

“I can’t even imagine how hard,” Chloe nods. “Maybe…” She pauses. “Maybe I could move in with you? Just for a little bit, until it gets better? I mean, I’m practically always there anyway to help you sleep. Plus, ever since Stacie and Aubrey got engaged, I’ve felt a little weird about living with them. You do  _ not _ want to hear their sex-capades. Living with singers is always a struggle.” A giggle escapes Beca’s mouth before she realizes what Chloe is asking.

“You’d really move in just to help me?” Her voice is small, genuinely confused. “That’s… No one’s ever offered that before.”

“I just want to… I want you to be okay. And it really sucks that I can’t help you much. So I’ll do anything that I can. But, like, don’t feel obligated to say yes. If it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do anything.” Beca bites her lip.

“C-can I think about it?” she finally asks.

“Of course,” Chloe says earnestly. She’s about to say more when the vet opens the door, ushering them in.

“So we had to give him three stitches, but he’ll be fine. The stitches will dissolve within two weeks, and the scar won’t even be noticeable. We gave him a sedative to do the procedure, so he’s a little sleepy. But you can take him home as soon as you finish the paperwork,” he says, leading them back to where Tucker is lying on a metal table. Beca is crying when she pets him, and he looks up at her blearily.

“Come on, Becs. He’s okay. We’re all okay,” Chloe whispers. Beca nods, and one of the nurses (do vets have nurses? Or the animal equivalent of a nurse?) helps Tucker off the table via some carpeted steps. He moves sluggishly as Chloe takes him out to the car. Beca leaves the nurses with her paperwork, and credit card information (damn, pets are expensive) before running out to get in the backseat with Tucker.

 

Tucker naps the entire way back to Beca’s apartment, snoring in the backseat with his head on her lap. He seems to perk up when they start up the stairs toward the apartment, ears perked and snout to the ground as he inspects everything.

“Go explore, Tuck,” Beca whispers, unclipping his leash once they enter the apartment. He stops, turning to Beca by the door as if waiting for her, wondering why the hell she took him off his leash. “We’re fine, dude. Go explore,” she insists. Tucker trots over, licking her hand before running around the entire apartment. 

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Mitchell, you have the world’s cutest dog,” Chloe laughs, following Beca into the kitchen. “So, you want to be alone to have time to process?” Beca violently shakes her head.

“I don’t need space. I don’t want to think. I just want… a distraction, you know?” she says, gulping.

“Then a distraction I shall be,” Chloe promises. “We can get crappy takeout, watch terrible movies in our pajamas, and get drunk until the wee hours of the morning if that’s what you’d like.” Beca just nods. “Okay. I’ll call out for Chinese,” Chloe whispers, pressing a kiss to Beca’s temple as she moves away. Beca lets out a long, slow sigh of relief while Chloe is in the next room, ordering their food.

 

They didn’t end up getting drunk. They fell asleep in the middle of their second movie, before either had moved beyond a glass of wine with dinner. After a bowl of his own dinner, Tucker fell asleep in front of the couch while Beca and Chloe curled around each other on top of it to see the TV and eat at the same time. Beca was grateful that Chloe stuck to light topics, but she knew she’d have to face everything eventually.

Like at six in the morning when Tucker is whining in her face, pressing his cold nose to her face.

“Oh damnit,” Beca groans.

“He has to go to the bathroom,” Chloe responds groggily. Her neck is aching from sleeping on the couch, and she sits up trying to rub out the kinks. “I can take him.” Tucker starts dancing around when Chloe stands, running to the door. She clips his leash on him and he practically drags her down the stairs. It’s difficult for Chloe to keep her eyes open as she finds a little grassy patch on which he does his business. Once he’s done, Tuck yanks her back towards the apartment.

“Coffee,” Beca offers as soon as Chloe returns. “Once I wake up a bit more, I can take him for a real walk. You gonna stay for breakfast?” Before Chloe can answer, Beca’s cell phone is ringing. Her face drops when she checks the caller ID, and Tucker comes over to put his head on her lap.

“Hello?” she says, her tone even and professional. “Yes, I’m free today. I can come down in about an hour. Can I… Can I ask what we need to talk about? Oh, of course. We’ll discuss it there.” Chloe just stirs her coffee while Beca speaks. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Who was that?” Chloe asks.

“The detectives from my case. They need to talk to me about it. You too, I’d bet. They’re talking trial prep and plea bargains right now, I think. Do you need a shower? I do.”

“No, I should, um, I should be good. You go. I’ll just get dressed and make something for us to eat,” Chloe says, watching Beca nervously flutter around the kitchen. Tucker follows her all the way into the bathroom, settling on the floor while Beca showers and Chloe makes their breakfast.

 

Chloe got the same call while Beca was in the shower, so they went together. When they arrived at the station, they were ushered into separate conference rooms. Beca tapped her foot nervously, but scratched underneath Tucker’s chin to keep herself focused while she waited. The prosecutor started in Chloe’s room. She was a reasonably young woman for a lawyer, but there was a hardness in her expression and her clipped tone that let Chloe know she meant business. She introduced herself as ADA Cindy Weller.

“So, Ms. Beale, as of this moment, it seems like we are going to proceed to trial. Some of the suspects are still claiming consent. Others have agreed to testify against their friends in exchange for an easier sentence. Now-”

“What do you mean, an easier sentence? They’re all going to prison, right?” Chloe interrupts.

“Yes. We have arranged bargains wherein they serve the full sentence for each of their crimes. However, we are willing to send them to federal penitentiaries which are considerably better kept than state facilities,” the woman corrects. Chloe nods. “We are here to check and make sure that you are still willing to testify in this proceeding.”

“Of course. May I ask which of the guys aren’t taking the plea?” Chloe nods.

“Eddie Bridges, Michael Frasier, and Tyler Washington,” she says, rifling through her papers.

“Mohawk Man, Green Beanie, and… Skull Tattoo?” Chloe asks. 

“Yes, yes, and no. I believe Ms. Mitchell referred to Mr. Washington as ‘Leather Jacket’,” Ms. Weller smiles. Chloe nods. 

“Okay, so just let me know when and where you need me to testify,” Chloe confirms.

“We have some specifications about trial, though. You are welcome to attend any proceeding except for the testimony that may affect your own. Any other witnesses to the event, any doctors testifying about her injuries, that sort of thing. Once you’ve testified, it’s all open to you.” She pauses.

“Okay, I understand. Will you let me know what days I can and cannot attend?”

“I can have someone inform you of specific proceedings you are barred from. Someone in my office will need your number so we can contact you when you’re due to testify. Now, you need to understand exactly how this will go. First, you testify in front of a grand jury. There will be about sixteen jurors, all watching. I will be the only attorney asking questions, but jurors are also allowed to pose them. All you must do is answer my questions. Do you know the point of a grand jury?” Chloe thinks back to the crime shows she watches.

“It’s to determine if there’s enough evidence to bring a case to trial, right?” Cindy smiles, nodding.

“Excellent. After that, we move on to the real trial. When you are on the stand, you will be instructed to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You will swear on either a religious book, such as the Bible, or the law book if religion is not a motivating factor for you. I will ask you questions first. It will be very similar to the grand jury proceedings. But this time, the defense attorneys will have the opportunity to question you. They will try to trick you, undermine you, and twist your words. Contrary to what popular crime shows tell you, the defense attorneys are not the enemy. They are only doing their job. In this case, their job is to undermine you and discredit you. You have to be careful what you say. Do you have any questions?”

“You can make objections, right? If they get out of line? They do that on TV,” Chloe asks.

“I  _ love _ making objections,” she smiles. “Now, someone will come in here to give you dates, and times and take down your contact info. It’s been lovely meeting you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” At this time, the attorney leaves Chloe to go give Beca a similar spiel.

 

“So… I have to testify? They’ll be there. Watching me?” Beca asks.

“Yes. It is their right as citizens. However, since your dog is a therapy dog, he can be up on the stand with you. It’s a new rule for the betterment of witness’ mental health.”

“Okay,” Beca says softly, scratching Tuck’s ears. “What if I screw everything up? What if… What if I say something and it gets misconstrued, and they walk?” She can’t look at this woman, ADA Cindy Weller.

“I can help keep you on track with what you say. All you have to do is tell the truth.We have  _ plenty _ of evidence that can help your case, even without your testimony. Particularly how he threatened you with a knife, and hurt your dog. So, please, don’t stress.”

“Easier said than done,” Beca laughs breathily.

“Of course, I know. If there’s anything I can do to make this easier, let me know, hmm?” Beca nods.

“I, um, I’m going home now, right? I can go home?” Beca asks, standing. She knows she sounds odd, is probably on the road to panicking. Tucker can sense this, pulling on her leash and whining. “I have to get Tucker home.” She starts walking, hearing the attorney and the detectives bidding her goodbye. She feels Chloe sidle up next to her, put a hand around her waist.

“Let’s get you home, Becs,” she whispers, leading Beca to the exit.

It’s only once they’re safely in Beca’s apartment, hunkered down on the couch under blankets, mugs of hot cocoa wrapped in their hands, that Beca finally speaks. Her voice is soft, hesitant, and vulnerable.

“I think… I’d really like it if you wanted to move in with me,” she whispers. Chloe beams, nodding before pressing a kiss to Beca’s temple.

“Okay,” Chloe whispers. Beca lets out a sigh, and Tucker lets out a whine, licking her hand. As Beca drifts off to sleep, Chloe can’t help but feel content. At home.


	15. It Ain't Like on TV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Beca found out the hard way that testifying in arraignment court is nothing like they show on her favorite crime shows.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” The court officer asks.

“I do,” Chloe confirms. She sits down in the wooden chair, adjusting her pencil skirt. She kept her chin high as she looked out at the sixteen men and women, of mixed age and race, all sitting in their own wooden chairs, watching, some with notebooks open and pens poised.

“Miss Beale, can you tell me why you’re here?” ADA Weller asks.

“I witnessed a brutal sexual assault,” Chloe replies, careful to keep her voice even. She makes eye contact with as many jurors as possible. “And I was assaulted by one of the men from the sexual assault I witnessed.”

“When did this first event occur? The  _ brutal _ sexual assault.”

“This past June 6th. It was late at night, maybe eleven?” Chloe shifts in the chair. She doesn’t particularly want to relive the gory details of what she saw, but needs to know that these men will go away for this. She needs them to get justice. Maybe it’ll help Beca. For the past two weeks, ever since Eddie attacked them in the park, Chloe has run out of her ‘guest room’ (AKA the living room and the pull-out couch) to find Beca crying and hysterical from her nightmares and Tuck whimpering, trying to wake her. Every night Beca wakes in a cold sweat, trying to remember where and when she is. Even during the day, she has more frequent flashbacks. She’s had to take a medical leave from work and is unable to even leave the house by herself. Maybe, if they’re in jail, the nightmares and the flashbacks won’t be so vivid.

“Can you tell us what you saw?” ADA Weller perches on the edge of her table, legs crossed at the ankle, watching Chloe with concern written all over her face, but it’s clear she, too wants these people to pay.

“Well, it had been the day of the Pride parade, and I had been there that morning. It’s where I first met the victim, Beca Mitchell. But we just met in passing. The assault happened much later in the night, after I got back to my apartment. I was just getting out of the shower when I heard someone crying. It sounded like it was coming from outside, so I looked out my window that faces into this little courtyard outside my building. I saw… It was terrible. It was a pile of bodies all heaving and moving. I saw, like, six guys and what sounded like a girl crying and screaming for help. I called 911 and I ran outside with this little pink bat- just in case. When I got there, I shouted and took a video of the men, and the guys all ran off. Well, I mean, one ran at me and I hit him with the bat,” she explained. One of the jurors, an older woman clutching the cross around her neck, was frowning, pursing her lips. Chloe couldn’t tell if that was a bad sign for Chloe or the rapists.

“And then?” ADA Weller prompts.

“I went over to the girl on the ground. She was… Naked, and bleeding. There were bruises and scratches all over her body. She was crying. I asked if she was okay, and she said that she wasn’t okay because she’d been raped. At that point, the ambulance was on their way. I talked to her for another minute, and then the police all showed up. They took us to the hospital after that.”

“Did you see anything to corroborate her story? That she’d been assaulted?” ADA Weller raises one eyebrow. Chloe purses her lips, cocking her head to one side.

“Well, she was bleeding, and crying,” Chloe says, as if this is the obvious answer- and it should be. “I saw one of the guys zipping up his pants as he ran away. Another tried to come after me, so I whacked him with my bat.” She nods.

“And you identified all of the suspects in a line-up?”

“Yes,” Chloe nods. “Plus, I got a video of them as they were attacking her and running away. It’s how the police got their identities, I believe.” ADA Weller nods again.

“And can you tell me what happened last Friday? The attempted assault of which you were the victim?”

“One of the original rapists, Eddie Bridges, found me and Beca, the victim. See we’ve, um, we’re friends now,” Chloe explains. One of the jurors seems to smile. “We were out walking her dog in this little park on the trails. It’s the Waterman trails, just outside of the city. We were walking when Eddie Bridges came out of the woods. We don’t know how he found us, but he had a knife. He started threatening Beca, telling her to take back the accusation. He also threatened to… um… He threatened to kill her dog, and he cut up his face. I managed to call the police, and they came before he could do anything to us.”

“Ms. Weller?” one of the juror whispers, beckoning her over. ADA Weller nods and turns back to Chloe. 

“So, how did you know that the experience was not consensual? The original assault?” ADA Weller asks. Chloe nods.

“She was crying and screaming. I just went down to see what was going on, and I called the police. When I got down there, most of them yelled and ran away. One went to attack me so I hit him, then they ran off. I asked Beca, just to make sure.” Chloe feels like she’d already answered this question.

“Right, but why did you go outside?” She prompts.

“I heard crying, and screaming. I heard someone calling out for help, so I went to help.” Chloe shrugs.

“That was very brave of you,” Weller grins. Chloe blushes.

“Well, I thought someone was in trouble. I just wanted to help.”

“Well, you did just that.” She pauses. “Alright, thank you, Ms. Beale. Chloe nods, smiling at the jury as she walks out.

 

Beca fidgets in her seat, and Tucker fidgets under the table, nudging her hand. She’d gone to the LA Animal control office and gotten an official permit that certified him as her therapy animal. Now Tucker had a special harness and he was able to enter any public establishment and most private establishments with Beca.

“Thank you for making a statement today, Miss Mitchell. We understand how difficult this must be,” ADA Weller begins gently. “Can you tell us where you were on June 6th?”

“I had been at the Pride Parade festivities with my coworkers during the day. I kind of, um, met Chloe there- oh, Chloe’s the girl who helped me. Anyway, around ten, I was walking my friend Amy home because she was drunk… I was walking by the apartment complex on Thames Avenue when… when this group of guys started harassing me.”

“Can you expand on that, Miss Mitchell? Who were these guys? What were they saying?” Beca closes her eyes, trying not to fall into a flashback. She bites her lip until it bleeds, trying to collect her thoughts.

“I didn’t know their names then. They were… catcalling me. At first it was… They just asked me to smile. They said things like ‘hey, baby’ and ‘damn, you look good.’” Beca’s voice is shaking now, but she continues. She couldn’t look up for fear of losing it, but if she had she would have seen all of the women in the jury nodding along, and many of the men frowning as they watched her begin to tremble. “When I didn’t smile for them, they got mad. They wouldn’t let me by, and they formed this circle around me…” Beca takes a moment to sip her water. “One man said I had to, um, pay the toll to get by them. I took that to mean… something sexual. They started pulling my clothes off, and they… they raped me. They took turns. Some did it… v-vaginally,” Beca cringes, being so open about this, about what happened, and her personal life, her body. “Others did it… oh God, anally, and orally,” she whimpers.

“Take your time,” ADA Weller says. Beca shakes her head, taking a moment to gulp down her sobs. If she takes her time and stops to think, she’ll fall into a flashback, and lose it completely. One hand rests over her hand, the other sits on Tucker’s snout, gently scratching him.

“I’m fine,” she whispers. “They raped me over and over again, taking turns. I thought it would never end… until Chloe came out, and then they ran.”

“Did you ever actually say the word ‘no’?” She asks after leaning down next to one of the jurors.

“I said it. I screamed it. I begged them to stop. Over and over again, I said it,” she says, her voice low and angry. Why the hell was ADA Weller asking her this? She thinks Beca wanted that? Public humiliation? Gang rape? 

“So, to be completely clear, you gave no indication that you wanted this? Because some of your rapists are saying you did,” she explains gently. Beca inhales sharply.

“N-no. None at a-all,” Beca whispers.

“Alright. Now, we need to talk about the events of this past Friday.” Beca runs a thumb over the scar on Tuck’s snout,remembering it. The stitches have dissolved over time, but it’s not yet faded, still an angry red line about as long as her thumb is wide.

“I had just adopted my dog, Tucker. The… assault… gave me PTSD, or, like anxiety or something, and he helps keep me calm. I actually just got him registered as a therapy dog,” Beca begins, scratching behind his ears. “Me and Chloe were walking him on the trails just to get him a little exercise. We were… It was fine. And then Tuck started barking like crazy, and he came out onto the trail.” Beca stops, losing herself in the memory. Eddie Bridges. Standing in the middle of the woodsy trail, holding out that knife. She remembers how he felt inside of her, how he leered down at her that night on the street. Tucker is nosing at her hand, and she can see her fingers trembling.

“Do you need a minute?” Weller asks. Beca shakes her head, taking a long sip of water to try and soothe her nerves.

“I’m fine. I can do this,” she whispers. ADA Weller nods.

“Okay. What happened when he came out of the woods?” she prompts.

“He had a knife. He kept threatening me, wanted me to tell everyone that I wanted what he did to me. Tucker tried to lunge at him, and he got a little c-cut on his nose.” Beca’s still trembling, and he’s pawing at her, whining. She pets him, trying to still her fingers. “He was getting angry, looked like he was coming for us next, and then the cops came. I guess Chloe called them.”

“So, you had no relationship with the defendants?” ADA Weller asks. 

“No. None at all,” she confirms, shaking a bit, tripping over her words. “I d-didn’t want that.”

“Thank you, Miss Mitchell,” she says. Beca nods, standing on shaking legs. Tucker is insistent, pulling her out of the courtroom, and one of the detectives takes her by the elbow, leading her to a quiet room where she could lie down on a couch. She’s not sure when Chloe comes to sit with her, holding her hand. All she knows is Tucker lying on her chest, forcing Beca to count every breath. Slowly, very slowly, she can feel her heartbeat slow to a more acceptable pace. The roaring in her ears stops, and she can hear Chloe singing.

_ “This time baby, I’ll be bulletproof,” _ she sings, softer and slower than the real version.

“I love that song,” Beca whispers, her voice ragged.

“Me too,” Chloe grins, tucking a loose hair behind Beca’s ear and wiping the sweat off her brow.

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done this,” Beca admits hoarsely.

“What do you mean?” Chloe cocks her head to the side, lips pursed in concern. She runs the back of her hand across Beca’s cheek, trying to keep her relaxed.

“I shouldn’t have done that...” She repeats. Beca isn’t looking at Chloe anymore, picking at a loose thread on Tuck’s collar. He just whines, licking her nose.

“What does that  _ mean _ ?” Chloe probes.

“I… In the courtroom, just now? I lied,” Beca exhales. Chloe doesn’t know what to say. “I lied,” she repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh... What did she lie about??


	16. Liar, Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ms. Weller, how bad is this if she lied?” Beca fidgets, mumbling “I lied, I lied, I lied,” over and over again.  
> “Depends on what she lied about,” she says, glancing at Beca who is rocking back and forth now, near catatonic.  
> “I lied,” Beca inhales deeply. But now, she seems to be preparing to say something new.

“The indictment came back in fifteen minutes,” ADA Weller grins, entering the room. Chloe was still frozen, unsure what to do with Beca’s recent admission.

“I lied,” Beca whimpers immediately. Weller stops.

“You cannot tell me you just lied on the stand,” Weller says nervously. Sighing, she seats herself at the table. Beca sits up, watching her and biting her thumbnail. “I need to know exactly what you mean so I can do damage control.”

“I  _ lied _ ,” Beca repeats. It seems to be the only thing she can say, currently. Chloe puts a hand on top of her thigh, just reminding Beca that she is there. “I lied.”

“I need to know what you lied about, Beca,” she prompts.

“Ms. Weller-” Chloe starts.

“Cindy,” she reminds Chloe. “When we’re not in the courtroom, you can call me Cindy.” She smiles, and Chloe nods.

“Cindy, how bad is this if she lied?” Beca fidgets, mumbling “I lied, I lied, I lied,” over and over again.

“Depends on what she lied about,” she says, glancing at Beca who is rocking back and forth now, near catatonic.

“I lied,” Beca inhales deeply. But now, she seems to be preparing to say something new. “I lied about how I interacted with them. I… You asked if I gave them any indication that I wanted it. I said no but… I did.” 

“You said yes? Did you change your mind?” Beca’s shaking her head before Cindy can even finish her question.

“No, I… I didn’t want them to, but my body… It… responded,” Beca sighs, tears filling her eyes.  _ God _ she hates talking about this. She can’t even discuss this with her lovers, let alone the ADA and her… whatever Chloe is. “A f-few t-times,” she sobs.

“Beca, did you… Did your body experience an orgasm?” Chloe whispers. Beca is trembling again, but she nods.

“Th-three times,” she admits. “So clearly, they th-thought I w-wanted it. So, I l-lied.” Tucker is pawing at her again, and she’s taking deep breaths like Kate tells her to, trying to stave off another attack.

“You didn’t lie, Beca,” Cindy smiles gently, taking off her glasses. “What happened was an automatic bodily response. You had no control. It was not consent, and you gave no indication that you wanted anything. Do you hear me? I can bring in seven different professionals who can testify that arousal in no way indicates consent. It’s okay. You didn’t lie,” she continues. Beca is shaking her head.

“But I gave indication. They thought-”

“You said no. Anytime you say no, no matter what your body says, your words matter more. You said no, and you told them to stop. At the end of the day, that’s what counts.” She stands to squeeze Beca’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be fine. I’ll get a medical professional on the docket to testify.” They sit in silence for a moment. 

“When does the trial start?” Chloe asks.

“We should get into a courtroom for opening statements sometime next week. I can let you know when you need to come in and testify as soon as I know. And, of course, I’ll let you know which testimonies you can’t see. But you’re perfectly welcome to come to opening statements, if you like. But it’s dreadfully boring.” Cindy winks at the end, and Beca cracks a smile, finally.

“Thank you,” she whispers, standing to shake Cindy’s hand. Saying nothing else, Beca sidles out of the little room and heads for home, Chloe coming up beside her.

 

“You should just go out with your friends. I’ll be fine,” Beca insists weakly from the bed. She’d been lying there since the day before, after they got home from the courthouse. She’d been too exhausted and embarrassed to leave the house, refusing to talk to Chloe about what she’d said after her testimony the previous day. Whenever Chloe tried to bring it up, Beca would shut down and stop talking.

“I’d like to go out,” Chloe nods. Beca wilts a little. She really does want Chloe to go out and have fun, but it hurts to be left so quickly. “But,” Chloe adds, “I’d like for you to come with me. We don’t have to go somewhere crazy, or busy. We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to, but I think it might be good for you to get out, you know?”

“I… I can’t leave… The papers… Everyone knows my name,” Beca whimpers. It had been front page news this morning: trials starting against vicious gang rape. Now that Beca’s name and testimony was part of public record, all of the papers could report it, and many were. “I wanted to be a music producer, Chloe… Now, every time someone Googles my name, they’ll see that I was  _ weak _ , that I was a  _ victim _ .” She spits out these new titles of hers with a venom so palpable that it actually makes Chloe flinch.

“Have you talked to Kate recently?” Chloe asks softly.

“I have an appointment tomorrow,” Beca grunts.

“Maybe… Maybe you could talk to her about these things.” Chloe puts a hand on Beca’s arm, but the brunette flinches, shying away from her touch. “You could also… do some kind of interview with the press. Get ahead of everything, yeah? You can turn this press into a conversation about your music. Maybe it could, I don’t know… Help?”

“Maybe,” Beca muses. She has thought of this, late at night when she thinks there’s no one out there to listen to her, when the mocking voices of her rapists have finally gone to sleep. She could get an agent, a public relations manager. She could spin this into a good thing, use her pain to make music. She could do it, become a role model, like Lady Gaga with her song.

“Just think about it,” Chloe hums.

“Only if you promise to go out and see your friends,” Beca asserts, like she’s going to stop herself from thinking about anything.

“I’ll see Stacie and Aubrey if you answer your friends’ texts. They’ve been blowing up your phone for days, and if I have to turn Fat Amy away one more time because you don’t feel good, she may start using her ‘fat power’ on me,” Chloe informs her. For the past week, Jesse and Amy have been texting her, calling her, and even showing up when Beca ignores their attempts at contact. Beca never felt up to visitors, but she knew she couldn’t avoid them forever. She’d still avoid them for as long as possible.

“Hand me my charger,” Beca grumbles. Tuck just whines from the floor- he hadn’t gone outside since this morning. “Alright, Tuck, I get it. We’ll go out for a walk while my phone charges,” she mumbles, petting his head.

“You can’t go for a walk without a phone,” Chloe scoffs. “Stacie and Aubrey are already coming over to get me so we can go out to a karaoke bar. Before we go, we can all just go for a quick walk around the block, okay?” She pauses, waiting to read Beca’s reaction. She just nods.

“Alright,” Beca exhales. “Okay, I’ll go get dressed.” Chloe grins, skipping over to meet Beca on the way to the closet, kissing her on the cheek. “What was that for?” she asks, frowning and wiping the kiss off her cheek, her eyes revealing the teasing behind the gesture.

“I’m just glad you like my friends,” Chloe hums, skipping away to leave Beca and Tucker. The latter turns to face his master, head cocked to the side.

“Yeah, I don’t believe her either, Tuck,” Beca mumbles, scratching his head.

 

“Becaw!” a voice crows. Immediately, Beca cringes. She’s not sure if it’s some PTSD reaction or just plain hatred of Jesse’s nickname that makes her flinch.

“Shawshank! We were wondering if we’d need a search party for ya,” Amy laughs. Beca turns away from Chloe, Stacie and Aubrey to face her friends. They’re just exiting Beca’s apartment complex for their walk when they’re accosted. Beca had only slipped on clean yoga pants and an old sweatshirt from her high school drama program before putting on her tattered sneakers and following Chloe out the door. The other girls all look nicer, more ready to go out to a pub or a bar somewhere and have a nice time on this Thursday night.

“No, I’m good… Right here… Walking my dog,” Beca smiles awkwardly. The aforementioned canine takes this moment to appreciate the new people, smelling them and checking back with Beca before he approves of them.

“I once had a pet dingo who looked like this,” Amy remarks. Joining the group, Fat Amy takes it upon herself to introduce herself to everyone. Beca tunes out the introductions and obvious questions from Aubrey and Stacie (“You call  _ yourself _ Fat Amy?” Aubrey asks, to which Amy always replies, “yeah it’s so twig bitches like you don’t do it behind my back”) in favor of paying attention to Tucker. She’s so focused on this task that she doesn’t notice when the group stops for a moment outside of a Metro stop, where Aubrey and Stacie are getting ready to leave.

“Oh, you’re going down to that new karaoke bar? On sixth?” Jesse asks. Stacie and Aubrey nod in unison. “That place is awesome!”

“You guys are all welcome to come,” Stacie grins. Fat Amy immediately nods, and Jesse’s bouncing he’s so excited about it. Beca is silent, and notices Chloe watching her.

“You should go,” Beca whispers to her friend. Chloe has already given up enough of her life to deal with Beca and all of her tragedies. She shouldn’t have to miss out on fun times with her friends just to hold Beca’s hand and sit at home doing nothing. “I’ll order myself some takeout, and get some stuff done. ‘S fine,” she mumbles, squeezing Chloe’s hand reassuringly. The resulting grin from the redhead at Beca initiating the touch is radiant, and there’s a warm feeling in Beca’s belly.

“You sure?” Chloe whispers. Beca nods, and Chloe turns to grin at her friends. “Let’s go karaoke!” the rest of the group whoops in pleasure, saying their goodbyes as Tucker and Beca start to turn around, heading back in the direction they’d come from.

Now that Beca’s alone, she takes more care to notice her surroundings. When she can see the roof of Chloe’s former apartment complex just over the next block, the world seems to slow down. Immediately, Tuck is nudging at her hand and trying to pull her along. But he’s pulling her towards the quickest route home. Which takes them directly past the courtyard where Beca was assaulted. She’s stiff, yet pliable enough for Tuck to just push her along, keeping her out of the way of random passersby on the street. Some give her strange looks, like they’re recognizing her from the newspapers, and it makes Beca’s breathing shallow, and nervous. When she’s directly in front of that courtyard gate, she stops, unable to move.

It all comes back in flashes.

Hands. A dozen hands all over her, touching every inch of her. They’re coarse and rough, calloused fingers grabbing at her, squeezing. She could feel their mouths on her. She kept her eyes closed but could picture their bodies all over her. They laughed, took turns. They were shouting, laughing as they decided who would “take her” next. At one point, she could feel warm liquid all over her. She wondered- hoped really- that it was blood and maybe this could all end soon. But then she could hear them laughing about taking a leak on her.

When she feels a heavy hand on her shoulder, Beca screams and jumps, turning to elbow her attacker in the gut.

“Whoa, kid, relax,” a voice grunts. Beca runs past him, glancing back to see Barry bent double, holding his stomach. Tucker is pulling her up five flights of stairs, all the way into her apartment. Fingers shaking, she finally manages to get the keys into the door, slamming it behind her.

Chloe finds her curled up in a ball on the shower floor, fully dressed and sopping wet, when she gets back from the karaoke bar hours later.


	17. Taking Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe is always taking care of Beca

“You’re okay, Beca,” Chloe whispers immediately, turning off the ice-cold shower, surprised Beca didn’t seem to notice the temperature. It had been Tucker’s yapping that brought Chloe to the bathroom, and he still nosed at his catatonic owner as she stared into space, not even seeming to notice that the shower is off. “Beca, you’re okay. I promise,” she repeats. “You’re not there anymore, you’re here. And I’m here. Can I help you get dressed in some dry clothes?” Beca nods mutely, still staring at the wall behind Chloe’s head.

“Go lie down, Tuck,” Chloe whispers, pulling a limp Beca to her feet. Chloe finds it easier to just cradle Beca like a child, not minding how she’s getting soaked now, too. Though her friends had taken her to a bar, she wasn’t near drunk enough to be stumbling, despite the added weight of carrying Beca. As they walk, Beca curls into Chloe, nestling her head against Chloe’s chest, biting her thumbnail. Tuck follows behind dutifully, despite Chloe’s command. Apparently, he’s more concerned with helping Beca than listening to Chloe, who can’t really seem to mind.

When Chloe tries to put Beca down on the bed, she whimpers and clings to Chloe’s sweater, her eyes shutting tight. Chloe bites her lip, torn at what to do. Part of her wants to get Beca out of those wet clothes before she gets uncomfortable, or cold, or sick. Another part just wants to keep Beca close, unwilling to tear herself away when Beca’s so clingy and needy.

“You need to get dressed, babe,” Chloe whispers. Beca whimpers again, but loosens her grip. Chloe stands, quickly finding some warm sweatpants and a t-shirt, grabbing a new pair of underwear before shoving it under her arm and scooping Beca up again, bringing her back to the bathroom. Sitting Beca down on the toilet lid, Chloe taps the sopping wet shirt.

“Can you take this off?” she whispers. Beca whimpers, shaking her head. “Can you tell me what happened? You seemed fine when I left you.”

“I w-walked by i-it,” she breathes, her voice raspy and broken. Chloe can barely hear her.

“By what?” Chloe asks, wrapping Beca in a towel.

“By  _ it _ ,” Beca whimpers. She’s shaking, and Chloe can’t figure out if the soaked, freezing cold shirt is making her shiver, or if she’s still having an attack.

“By… it,” Chloe repeats slowly. “You walked by… oh Beca… We walked right by my old apartm- by  _ it _ ,” Chloe finally realizes. Beca had had to walk by the courtyard where they assaulted her in order to get home. It probably triggered an attack, which led to her sitting on the floor of the shower under an icy spray. “Oh, my poor, sweet girl,” Chloe exhales.

“Mhmm,” Beca squeaks, still staring at the air in front of her. With the towel wrapped around her, her hair hanging in wet clumps around her face, her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, she looks much younger. Chloe wipes gently at the red tear tracks down her cheeks. 

“Can I please get you into some warm, dry clothes? You’ll feel better,” Chloe asks. Beca takes a long, shaky breath before nodding. “Okay, good. Okay, I’m gonna start with your shirt and stuff, alright?” Beca nods again, closing her eyes as her lower lip wobbles. Chloe carefully pulls the sticky, wet t-shirt off of her friend. “I’m gonna take the sports bra off, too, okay?” Beca doesn’t answer so Chloe takes that as permission. Wrestling the wet bra of her skin takes more effort, and Beca can’t seem to care that her chest is completely bare right now. Chloe’s eyes flick down, but out of respect for her friend, she focuses more on toweling Beca off before pulling over another, fresh shirt.

_ “Deep in the meadow, under the willow. A bed of grass, a soft green pillow. Lay down your head, and close your eyes. And when you wake, the sun will rise,” _ Chloe sings softly while she works. Beca doesn’t respond, but Chloe can see her shoulders droop, seeming to lose some of the tension. She moves to work the pants down Beca’s legs and off her feet.

“I have to take your underwear off. Just for a second so we can get some dry stuff on you, okay?”

“Mkay,” Beca hums, inhaling deeply. Chloe quickly and carefully yanks her underwear down, ignoring the flush on her face. While she towels Beca off again, she continues to sing.

_ “Here it’s safe, here it’s warm. Here the daisies guard you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true. Here is the place where I love you.” _ Chloe hums now, pulling on Beca’s plaid pajama pants. Running her fingers through Beca’s hair, she picks up a nearby brush.

“Can I fix your hair?” Beca nods mutely, and Chloe resumes her humming. She’s careful to be gentle as she pulls at the knots, systematically untangling her entire head of hair. Immediately, she parts the hair and weaves it into two simple, but sturdy braids. Chloe grins when she looks at Beca, noting how she looks younger, more innocent and open.

“You tired?” Chloe asks with a smile when she catches Beca yawning.

“‘M very sleepy,” she mumbles, rubbing at her eye with one fist. Glancing at the clock, Chloe notices it’s nearly half past midnight. Clearly the attack and her exhaustion has made Beca more vulnerable, those stone walls she hides behind falling down.

“Well, why don’t I get you to your bed, hmm? You’ve had a pretty rough night,” Chloe sighs, looping one arm under Beca’s armpit and around her shoulders, but Beca is limp, leaning on her.

“Too tired,” Beca grumbles, eyes still closed as her head lolls back. “I had to walk by it, Chloe, and I’m too tired. Too weak,” she whispers sadly.

“You’re not weak just because you need a little help sometimes,” Chloe says promptly, scooping Beca up like a child and carrying her to the bed. Tuck trots behind, climbing up on the bed to curl up next to her feet when Chloe lays her down, tucking the blanket around her. She’s turning to go take her own shower, already starting to feel the buzz of alcohol being dulled by hangover, when Beca’s hand shoots out, grabbing Chloe’s wrist.

“Stay?” And it’s not what she says, but rather how she says it. Her voice is small, quiet and unsure, and her eyes are downcast. It makes Beca seem like a kitten, or a small child afraid of the dark. It makes Chloe immediately nod, climbing into the bed with her.

“Always,” Chloe responds. Beca nods, shifting around so that she is facing Chloe, arms tucked into her chest. When Chloe pulls her hand away, Beca pouts and moves them so that one rests on her hip, the other under her neck. “Feeling cuddly?” Chloe teases.

“Shut up, or I’ll go sleep on the couch,” Beca mumbles, burying her head into Chloe’s neck.

“You’re impossible,” Chloe giggles lightly, pulling Beca tighter. Tuck shifts at the end of the bed, resting his head on top of Chloe and Beca’s entwined feet, and Chloe feels a sense of calm wash over her. Like she’s come home after a really long day.

 

But of course, Chloe’s alarm goes off far too early in the morning (even if school ended last week, she still has professional development meetings and end of the year administrative duties). 

When she starts to stir, Chloe can feel Beca’s face still pressed firmly against her chest. Both of Beca’s arms are wrapped around her waist. Their legs are intertwined, and it is difficult to tell where one body ends and the next begins. Mindful of this, and Beca’s slow, even breathing, Chloe starts to extract herself.

“No, don’t go,” Beca murmurs, tightening her grip on Chloe’s waist. Chuckling, Chloe pulls Beca’s hands away.

“I’ll be back later,” Chloe assures her. “I have to go do my paperwork and go to meetings.” She tries to stand but Beca whimpers, pulling at her arms, clearly in that place between sleeping and waking where she has no idea what she’s saying, no filter.

“Please, call out.”

“I was out yesterday. I’m getting up now, Beca. Go back to bed,” Chloe laughs. Beca whines and mumbles, but just curls up in a ball on the bed, tucking Chloe’s pillow to her chest. Chloe gestures at Tuck, and he crawls up the bed to rest his head on Beca’s stomach.

“I’ll be back later, Becs,” Chloe whispers as she walks back into the bedroom. Beca is sound asleep, still curled around Chloe’s pillow. She snaps a picture before leaning down to press a kiss to Beca’s temple. “I’ll send someone to check on you later. Love you, Becs,” she sighs into Beca’s hairline. Chloe is already out the door and doesn’t notice how Beca blinks her eyes open, paralyzed on the bed, contemplating Chloe’s admission.

 

“Hey, Amy, can you check on Beca later?” Chloe asks. A very hungover Amy just groans into the phone. “Don’t give me that! You can come around the apartment around three this afternoon, okay? Tell her I have a meeting, so I won’t be back until five, and she can order dinner if she wants.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs. “I guess I can check on Short Stack.”

“Thank you,” Chloe hums. She’d called Jesse to check on Beca at 10 A.M. Stacie and Aubrey are bringing her a sandwich for lunch to make sure she eats, feeds Tucker, and takes him for a walk. Now she’s got Amy coming for 3 P.M. and she’s all covered.

“Miss Beale, Miss Beale!” A boy shouts, running up from behind the slide; often her students come to play on the school playground over the summer. She grinned, kneeling down as one of her old first graders came over to sing her a song. It was a cute little song; she wondered if she should sing it to Beca later when she got home.

 

It was about 10:15 A.M. when Chloe’s phone started to ring. Her colleagues snickered and made faces as “Shake It Off” started playing and Chloe blushed as she ran to put it on silent. It continued to buzz every few minutes until the end of the meeting. Finally, Chloe ushered her students out of the classroom and back to their teacher so that she could check her phone, only to find three missed calls from Jesse, and ten texts. She skips reading the texts and immediately swipes to call him back.

“Jesse? What’s up?” Chloe says casually, trying not to panic. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up; I was in a meeting. Is something wrong?”

“Uh, yeah, kind of? I mean, maybe?” Jesse sounds like he’s pacing, wringing his hands. It makes Chloe mimic the action, walking in circles around her classroom.

“Spit it out, Jess. You’re scaring me. Is something wrong with Beca?” Chloe runs a hand through her hair.

“Um, we’re in the hospital- me and Beca.”

“What?!” Chloe shrieks. “What happened? Is she hurt? Is she okay?” Chloe stands stock still, heart thumping.

“Um, yeah. She’s fine now, but you might want to come down when you can. She’s freaking out and asking for you. Well, she was before they sedated her.” Chloe closes her eyes, and she can actually see Jesse scratching at the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly from side to side.

“Sedated her? What the hell happened?” she whispers, knowing she has a meeting with the school district music program coordinator for the rest of the day.

“I’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” he insists.

“I won’t be able to get there for at least an hour and a half. Damnit, Jesse,” she whimpers. The coordinator knocks at the door, smiling at Chloe. “I have to go, Jesse. I’ll call you later, okay?” She waves her in, subtly wiping at the tears in the corners of her eyes, beaming at her boss.

“Good morning,” she smiles. “Let’s make some lesson plans.”


	18. Back in the Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please, I just want to know what happened to her. Is she… alive?” Chloe’s trying not to hyperventilate, imagining Beca lying dead in a bed somewhere, a white sheet pulled up over her face.

Unfortunately, Chloe couldn’t get out of her meeting. The department head had noticed her distraction and commented on it, but only as a criticism. Chloe didn’t like the idea of telling him the details since he seemed irritated with her already. She just went through the motions in her meeting, trying to rush it along. She knew her performance would be marked down in the report, but she’d tell her boss the problem later.

She moved quickly, sprinting through the halls and out to her car. Jesse had texted her the address of the hospital, but gave no more details about why they were there. She parked quickly, haphazardly and crooked, before running into the emergency room.

“B-Beca Mitchell, is she here? I got a call,” Chloe pants to the nurse behind the desk.

“What’s your relation to her?” the woman asks, not even raising her gaze from the computer.

“She’s my… Roommate. Best friend. She’s my person! Please, I just want to know what happened to her. Is she… alive?” Chloe’s trying not to hyperventilate, imagining Beca lying dead in a bed somewhere, a white sheet pulled up over her face.

“Yes, dear. She’s been admitted. Let me send you in,” the nurse says, softening. Chloe nods, following behind the woman as they head through the emergency room, down a hall, another hall, and one more before coming to a new wing. The nurse’s station is in the middle of the circular room, ten rooms branching off. Three nurses sit behind the glass at the nurse’s station, typing at computers. One more is going through the rooms. Another is checking vials in a cabinet. The first nurse points Chloe to a room across the way, and Chloe sprints there.

Beca is asleep in the hospital bed, tubes and wires sticking out of her. She looks small, her cheeks sunken in and pale, her dark clothes replaced by a thin white hospital gown, and her dark makeup washed away. Chloe whimpers, rushing up to Beca’s side, completely ignoring Jesse sitting by the window. 

“What happened to you?” Chloe breathes, one finger ghosting over Beca’s cheek, afraid to touch her.

“I went to check on her, and I found her asleep,” Jesse explains. “Well, I thought she was asleep. She was unconscious, and I couldn’t wake her. She had overdosed on sleeping pills, so they pumped her stomach. But when she woke up, she started freaking out. They sedated her and are keeping her for observation since she’s a danger to herself.” Chloe’s tears splash down on Beca’s chest, and she sniffles. “I called Aubrey and Stacie and told them not to bother coming. Then I told Amy she could sleep and I’d take her shift.”

“Where’s Tuck?” 

“One of the nurses took him somewhere so he could go to the bathroom. I tried to leave him at the apartment, but he flipped, so I took him in the ambulance.”

“She tried to kill herself,” Chloe whispers hoarsely.

“We think so,” Jesse nods somberly.

“You can go home, Jess. I’ll stay with her now. Go, rest, whatever,” she tells him. He nods. “Does she have family we should call?”

“She hasn’t talked to her dad in ages. She’d probably hate you if you told him she’s here. You, me, Fat Amy, Stacie and Aubrey are the only ones she really hangs out with. Plus Luke, but not so much since she quit,” he explains softly, as if trying not to wake her. As if she’s just sleeping, not drugged. Not  _ sedated _ because she tried to kill herself and panicked when she lived.

“Okay. I’ll stay with her.” Chloe nods quietly. As Jesse is leaving, a young nurse comes back with Tucker.

“Are you family? We’re only supposed to let family stay overnight,” she asks. Chloe looks down at Beca, eyes closed and hair fanning out over her pillow.

“Yeah, I’m her family,” Chloe whispers, holding Beca’s hand. The woman nods, and leaves Tucker, closing the door behind her. He whimpers, nudging at Beca’s hand, then Chloe’s. “We’re her family, Tuck,” she whispers, petting him. “We’re her family and we protect her. It’s gonna be okay.” The nurse comes to show Chloe how to turn the chair into a bed, and she drags it so Chloe can sleep with her head right next to Beca. When Beca wakes in the middle of the night, Tuck is by her feet, Chloe’s head resting on her hand. Smiling, she slips right back into sleep.

 

Beca wakes with a start when the doctor comes in the next morning.

“Ah, glad you’re awake. I’m Dr. Emerson,” she smiles, swinging her blonde hair and pulling up the sleeves of her white coat.

“Hard not to be awake when you come bursting in like that,” Beca replies, rubbing at her eyes. She looks around for Chloe’s bright red hair, but she isn’t in the room. Did she leave Beca all alone?

“Looking for your friend? She went down to get coffee. Let’s talk about  _ you _ , hmmm?” Beca grunts. “I’m a doctor from the psych ward. Do you know why you’re here?”

“You think I’m crazy,” Beca replies immediately.

“No,” Dr. Emerson smiles, pulling up a chair. She scribbles something down on a clipboard. “But we are worried about you. You had taken half a bottle of sleeping pills when they found you. We’re worried about your suicidal ideations.” Her voice is even, free of judgment. Beca wonders how long she had to work to get that neutral tone.

“I’m not…  _ suicidal _ ,” Beca scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks out the window rather than at the doctor. She has a  _ lovely _ view of the rooftop next door, but it’s better than looking at the doctor with her psychobabble.

“So what were you feeling?” she asks. It’s not exactly condescending the way she says it, but Beca can read between the lines. Dr. Emerson can’t understand what Beca was feeling when she palmed that bottle of pills.

“I just wanted to sleep,” she finds herself mumbling. “I was tired.”

“Tired of what?” Beca scowls. What kind of question is that?

“Tired! Just tired! I couldn’t sleep, and I was exhausted, so I took some sleeping pills. That’s all. It was an accident.” Beca twinges when she says it. It’s not an  _ accident _ when you take twenty two pills instead of one.

“Really?” Dr. Emerson asks, quirking one eyebrow.

“Yes,” Beca hisses.  _ Lies _ , she thinks to herself.

“I can’t help you if you’re not honest. And if I can’t help you, you can’t leave. You’re here for a psychological observation, and if we believe you are still a danger to yourself, we can’t release you,” she explains.

“I’m an adult. Can’t I just check myself out? This isn’t a prison.” Beca glares at her lap, picking at a loose thread on her blanket.

“You can leave against medical advice, yes,” Dr. Emerson nods. Beca glances up. “We’re not here to punish you, or make you unhappy. We want to help you and understand why you did this.”

“It was an accident! I’m fine!” Beca shrieks, tears springing to her eyes. “Leave me alone, please! Just leave me alone! I just need to sleep! I want to sleep! Where’s Chloe! Where is she? I want to go home. I want to sleep, please!” Beca’s hysterical now, trying to get out of bed, ripping the IV out, screaming. Dr. Emerson is gently pushing Beca back, and a nurse rushes in to help her hold Beca down.

“Beca, we need you to take a breath. Relax,” Dr. Emerson says softly, her voice soothing and smooth. But Beca is panicking. Tucker is tugging at her hand, licking her, nipping at her fingers. But she can’t pay attention to him. 

“No, no, I want to go home. I want to go home,” Beca whimpers, shoving against the nurse, trying to get outside. If she gets outside, she can find Chloe. It’ll be better if she can explain to Chloe that this was an accident. She didn’t  _ want _ to die. Not really. “Let me go, let me go!”

“Beca, relax please. We’re going to have to give you a sedative if you can’t calm yourself down. Take a breath, Beca,” Dr. Emerson urges.

“No,” Beca whimpers, shaking and stomping her foot like a child. She’s crying now, gasping for air. Tucker is latching onto her wrist with his mouth, not breaking skin, just pulling her back to the bed. He bumps into the nurse as he jumps, pushing his paws onto her chest until she sits back on the bed. She’s shaking. “Wh-where’s Chloe?” She asks, finally breaking as Tuck rests his head on her lap. Her shoulders are shaking, body wracked with sobs.

“I’m right here, Becs. I was just outside,” Chloe calls, rushing in, her coffee forgotten on the bedside table. She shoves around the nurse and Dr. Emerson to grab onto Beca’s hand. “They told me to wait until they were done talking to you. You’re okay now, I’ve got you.” She brushes through Beca’s hair.

“I d-didn’t mean to, Cho. I wasn’t th-thinking,” she sobs. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk, Beca. Just breathe,” Chloe whispers.

“N-no! I di-idn’t mean to take so many! I m-mean, I did. But I didn’t w-want to  _ d-die _ ! I just… wanted t-to, to  _ sleep _ ! And you weren’t h-here and you’re b-busy, and I couldn’t sleep! I’m so tired  _ all the t-time _ !” Beca leans into Chloe now, practically squishing Tucker’s head.

“It’s okay, babe. You’re okay. You can sleep, okay? Go to sleep now,” Chloe shushes her, stroking her hair and trailing a nail down her back. Slowly, slowly Beca’s sobs dissipate into sniffles, and she lays back down on the bed, Chloe coming with her.

“I just wanted to sleep,” Beca whispers sleepily. 

“Go to sleep, babe. Go to sleep,” Chloe whispers. She keeps mumbling to Beca, stroking her hair until she falls back asleep and her eyes close.


	19. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Beca, it's not as easy as clicking her heels three times.

“I just wanted to sleep,” Beca mumbles. Kate had come in to see her as soon as Chloe had called her- apparently she worked a few shifts in this psychiatric wing of this hospital some afternoons. She was sitting across from Beca now, and Chloe was running back to the apartment to get some clothes and something to eat. Beca couldn’t look Kate in the eye, feeling like a failure, instead focusing on petting Tucker.

“Yes, I understand. You told Dr. Emerson that you’re tired all the time. Can you tell me more about that?” She crosses her legs at the ankle, watching Beca.

“I just… I wake up and I’m exhausted. I don’t want to get out of bed, but Chloe is always there making breakfast and I don’t want her to make it for no reason so I get up. And then she leaves, so I just sit around on the couch, watching TV and sleeping. Sometimes I get up to take care of Tucker because he needs me, but I’m just so  _ tired _ .” Beca can feel the tears in the edges of her eyes, but she doesn’t know why she’s crying. God, she’s so  _ pathetic _ .

“Do you have any problems concentrating? Do you ever forget things?” Beca shrugs.

“I’ve never been great at concentrating, but it has been a little worse. I can’t focus on making my mixes for more than a few minutes at a time. I just… I don’t even feel like making mixes anymore.” She fidgets on the bed, wishing Chloe would bring her real clothes soon; she kind of hated the way the hospital clothes felt on her skin.

“You used to love mixing music, right?” Beca nods. “How’s your appetite?”

“Um… I don’t get hungry a lot anymore. Chloe usually makes me food, though and I feel bad letting it go to waste,” Beca mumbles, her cheeks getting redder by the moment.

“Any persistent aches or pains?” Beca shakes her head, then stops and cants her head, thinking.

“Maybe? A little? I don’t know,” she shrugs.

“Any feelings of hopelessness? Worthlessness? Pessimism?” Beca takes a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah,” she stumbles over getting the words out. Kate nods slowly.

“I’d like to put you on medication for depression,” Kate says after a moment. Beca wrinkles her nose. “What’s that face for?” she asks with a small smile.

“I don’t need… crazy pills,” Beca mumbles.

“You’re right,” Kate nods. “And that’s not what these are. Do you know what depression is?” Beca shrugs.

“I mean, I know it’s when people are sad a lot.” 

“Well, yes. Everyone gets those feelings occasionally, particularly after a painful event or time. But sometimes, it’s more than that. It’s a chemical imbalance in the brain. Your brain may be wired a little differently that causes you to react differently and make you more susceptible to depressive episodes like this. It’s not a comment on your character, just your biology. There are several medications we can try to get you feeling better.” Beca squirms.

“How much are they? I don’t have my job anymore, so I don’t have health insurance.” Kate nods.

“We can look into you getting benefits from the government. Disability, or unemployment. Then, of course, there’s Obamacare so everyone can get health insurance. We can figure it out,” Kate assures her, patting Beca’s hand. She nods, swallowing thickly before she looks up at Kate.

“What are those medications you were talking about?” she croaks.

 

Beca spent a total of 72 hours in the psych ward at the hospital, the end of the observation period. She spoke to Kate, and Dr. Emerson every day. Chloe stayed with her most of the weekend, and by Saturday afternoon the doctors were letting her out for walks around the hospital and the outside garden areas with Tucker.

Jesse and at Amy visited her when Chloe had to leave for work, and she got texts from Stacie and Aubrey. Jesse was awkward, far too concerned and caring. Beca knows it’s awkward for him since he found her basically comatose. Thankfully, Fat Amy is pretty good at breaking awkward tensions, making otherwise insensitive jokes (”oh, Beca, should I have left my keys at the door? Not sure if you’re allowed sharp things here,” she’d said) to keep everyone smiling and shaking their heads. Soon enough, Chloe is there in her car to drive Beca back to the apartment with Beca’s freshly filled prescription, a change of clothes, and an ice cream cone from the cafeteria downstairs.

“So, Kate thinks the medicine will help?” Chloe asks. Beca hates how it sounds like Chloe is measuring every word, cautious.

“She does. But there’s a bunch of side effects that I have to watch out for,” Beca sighs, watching the traffic out the window. Tucker sits with his head on the console between the two girls. They ride in a tense silence for a while.

“Chloe,” Beca sighs after a while. Chloe makes a small sound, looking over from the corner of her eye. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”” she asks. But it still sounds so  _ careful _ , like she’s afraid Beca will break if she says anything more.

“Stop treating me like you’re afraid of what I’ll do. I just want… I want things normal. And you’re not treating me like normal. You’re treating me like I’m fragile. Just... Don’t,” Beca says awkwardly, fumbling to make herself understood. Chloe shakes her head, but is smiling slightly when Beca looks at her. “Are you laughing at me?” Beca challenges.

“No, I’m not. Really!” Choe defends, but she is still smiling. Beca just pouts, staring out the window. “Don’t pout. I just don’t… I’m really not trying to treat you like you’re fragile, Becs. But can you blame me for it? You’ve been under a mandatory psych eval for the past 72 hours because you swallowed half a bottle of pills. Beca… I love you, sweetheart but I think you are a little fragile right now. You’re being called a liar in court by your rapists. Your name and face are splattered all over the news and media. You have PTSD, rape trauma syndrome, depression, anxiety and can’t sleep. Please, Beca, don’t be angry with me.” Beca fidgets as Chloe describes everything that’s wrong with her. All of her faults, her failings, and her neurotics.

“Fine,” Beca mutters.

“Look, I’ll try and go back to normal, okay? But if I do act a little weird, it’s not because I think there’s something wrong with you. You aren’t a failure. It’s just because I care for you and I want to help you.”

“I… understand,” Beca sighs. After a moment, she adds, “I love you too, I guess. Or I care about you. Don’t make it a big… thing or anything.” Chloe just beams, unable to respond. With that, Chloe turns up the music and puts the window down, screaming along to the words. She grins over at Beca, waiting for her to join in. After a moment of playful consideration and shaking her head, she starts to sing along. There. Now  _ that _ feels a little more normal.

 

“He needs a dog bed,” Chloe muses, looking at an empty spot in their living room just below where the crappy television- a gift from Beca’s boss when he remodeled his house and got a flat screen- sits on a table. “We could put it right there,” she offers.

“A dog bed?” Beca asks from her spot on the couch. Beca was tucked into the corner, snuggled in sweatpants and an old high school t-shirt her mom had bought her to try and make her more school spirited. Her hair is piled on her head in a messy bun and they’re eating takeout. A perfect Wednesday night. For the past two days, Choe has tried to make things normal. She texts Beca more often during the day and took away the sleeping pills and other dangerous things. She sent Stacie and Jessie to check on her at lunch time both days. But she’s been trying to keep things normal for Beca, and Beca has been taking her new medication. It gives her headaches, and sometimes she feels restless, like she might jump out a window if she has to sit still any longer. 

“Yes, a dog bed. A place for him to lie down and call his own,” Chloe explains with a smile as she returns from the kitchen with a fresh glass of water, sitting down on the couch opposite Beca. 

“He’s a dog. He sleeps anywhere he likes,” Beca snorts. “He doesn’t need a bed.”

“He sleeps on the floor because there’s no room for him on the couch with us. It’s not comfy!” Chloe protests. 

“Why is there no room on the couch? Look at all that space right here,” Beca says, gesturing to the large space between them.

“No!” Chloe whines. “This is our snuggle space.” She throws herself to lie across the space so that her head rests on Beca’s lap.

“Excuse me?” Beca asks, raising an eyebrow down at Chloe.

“Sometimes, when we watch TV, if you’ve had a good day, you let me snuggle up to you,” Chloe says in a very small, quiet voice. She looks up at Beca through her eyelashes, biting her lip. For half a second, Beca can see herself leaning her head down, Chloe leaning up to kiss her. She stills the moment the image makes itself known. She doesn’t quite know where that came from. Probably these stupid family drama shows Chloe loves to watch. 

“Oh, do I?” Beca breathes. Chloe nods, still smiling.

“You do,” she agrees.

“And how do you know if I’m having a good day?”

“You… let me play with your hair. And when I scoot closer to you, you don’t flinch. Sometimes you even hug me first. That’s how I know it’s been a  _ really _ good day,” Chloe explains. A loose curl falls on Chloe’s cheek, and Beca swipes it away. Chloe’s hair is soft, so she continues to stroke it. Chloe smiles, her eyes fluttering shut as she does this.

“So what is today?” Beca leans her head back on the couch, feeling Chloe climb up to sit on the couch more comfortably, leaning completely into Beca’s side. One arm snakes around Beca’s waist, the other reaching around her to clasp over her lap. Beca smiles, one arm around Chloe’s shoulder, the other still raking her nails through Chloe’s curls.

“Today’s the best day you’ve had since I met you,” Chloe hums in contentment. They both close their eyes, the movie  playing forgotten in the background as they sit in silence. Chloe nestles her head into the crook of Beca’s neck and Beca grins, resting her chin on top of Chloe’s head. It’s comfortable. They’re comfortable.

Until Tucker starts pawing at their legs, wanting a place on the couch.

“Told you we need a dog bed for him,”  Chloe murmurs. Beca laughs.

“I’ll try and get one tomorrow,” she promises.

Chloe laughs for ten minutes the next night when she returns home to find that Beca had indeed bought a dog bed. And it looked like a little couch, placed right in front of the TV. Tucker was perches comfortably on it, watching them as they sat on the real couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fluff is absolutely necessary because I can't do all that angst without a break. Hope you don't mind


	20. Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial gets underway!
> 
> Trigger Warning for misogynistic comments and victim blaming. Also some mild/implied slut shaming and kink shaming and a minor panic attack

“Are you sure you want to be in the courtroom when they do opening arguments?” ADA Weller asks gently, holding Beca’s hand as they sit outside the courtroom. “The defense attorneys will be saying things, and I can’t stop them. Their attorneys are good, very skilled. They know how to sway a jury with their words.”

“But, you’ll talk too, right?” Beca asks. Chloe is at school today, though she’d offered to take the day off. Beca insisted that she was fine and at least one of them should go to work, make money. Beca had talked to someone about getting on welfare, but was reluctant to actually go through with it. She knew it was her stupid pride, but it was hard.

“I will be able to make my arguments. And I am an  _ excellent _ arguer, too. I’m just trying to prepare you for what you’ll see in court. They’re going to try and paint you as a liar, as a woman who said yes to rough, kinky, public sex but got embarrassed when people found out. It will probably be very difficult for you to listen to. Are you sure you can do this? Where’s Chloe?” Beca looks down at where Tucker sits on the floor, his head on his paws.

“She’s a schoolteacher. I couldn’t ask her to miss yet another day of end of school meetings and stuff when she probably won’t be testifying for a few days,” Beca mumbles.

“Becaw! Hey, Becaw!” She looks up to see Jesse in khakis and a button down shirt, fiddling with his tie as he jogs across the marble lobby to meet Beca, waving and grinning like a dope. Beca smirks.

“Who’s this?” Weller asks, shifting as if ready to jump up and body block this strange man bearing down on them.

“My friend Jesse,” she smiles, chuckling. “What are you doing, Jess?” He smiles, ruffling her hair as he sits next to her.

“Chloe texted me. She thought you might need a hand to hold during opening statements,” he explains. “She knows that I happen to have the best hands to hold in times of trouble,” he teases. Turning to ADA Weller, he holds out his hand. “Jesse Swanson. Beca’s best friend and former coworker.”

“Assistant district attorney Cindy Weller. I’m in charge of her case. Glad she’s got someone to sit with her,” Weller says, shaking his hand.

“Oh, she’s got plenty of people in hdr corner. She just never asks them to step out and help her fight,” he adds, nudging her.

“I’m sure she does,” Weller nods. “I’ve got to go and prep. Trial starts in ten minutes.” She smiles as she stands, going back into the courtroom and Jesse turns back to Beca, reaching down to pet Tucker.

“So, you ready for this, Becs?” he asks quietly. She shrugs.

“No, but I’m going in there anyway,” she sighs.

Jesse laughs. “That’s my girl.” Standing, he takes her hand and leads her into the courtroom to sit down behind Weller’s table.

 

“I plan to prove that these men were not consensual partners with their victim Ms. Mitchell, but rather were violent attackers she met on the street. These men stalked her, terrorized her, brutally raped her, and are now raping her again with this trial and the media.” ADA Weller sits down and Beca is bouncing her leg as the defense attorney, a tall fat man with graying hair and a big nose, rises. She startles when Jesse places a hand on her leg to still her.

“Relax, Becs,” Jesse whispers. Beca nods, her eyes never leaving the man in the center of the courtroom. ADA Weller called him Rob… Rob Milner. He smirked, chuckling a little as he comes over to the edge of the jury box. 

“Honorable members of the jury, I can see why you’d be inclined to believe Ms. Weller about this case. Rape and feminism has become such a hot button issue in our society, and we’re all trained to believe that every supposed ‘victim’ is telling the truth.” He actually makes air quotes when he says victim, and Beca is beginning to hate his faintly southern accent. “But this is not the case. Our supposed victim Ms. Mitchell met our clients- her supposed ‘rapists’-  earlier in the day, and we can prove it. We intend to show you that this was a kinky fantasy, one that Ms. Mitchell was ashamed of. When someone came out to ‘rescue’ her, she couldn’t admit that she had in fact enjoyed the experience.”

“I didn’t,” Beca whimpers softly, burying her head in Jesse’s shoulder. He rubs her back gently.

“See, even now she’s hiding her face, too ashamed to even look you in the eye,” Milner adds. Beca looks up to find the entire jury box staring at her inquisitively. She shakes her head, swiping at the rogue tears that slip out. “This trial is a sham, an abuse of the legal system to try and prevent people from discovering Ms. Mitchell’s sex fantasies. Thank you.”

“Prosecution may begin calling witnesses,” the judge announces, an older woman with red hair streaked with white. ADA Weller stands.

“Prosecution calls the  _ victim _ -” she emphasizes the word, “Rebecca Mitchell.” Breathing deeply, Beca stands. A court officer in uniform comes to escort her to the stand, Tucker trotting behind her happily, his tongue lolling out.

“Place your right hand on the book of California law,” the officer states. Since Beca wasn’t particularly religious, the courts had her swear on a book of law. “Repeat after me. I, Rebecca Mitchell.” He stops, waiting for her.

“I, Rebecca Mitchell,” she croaks, her throat tight with anxiety. She clears her throat and tries again, “I, Rebecca Mitchell.”

“Do hereby solemnly affirm that the evidence I shall give,” he continues. Beca turns to look at Jesse, who gives her a thumbs up.

“Do hereby solemnly affirm that the… evidence I shall give.” Beca looks back at the officer. He nods, smiling kindly at her.

“In this case now pending before the court.”

“In this case now pending before the court.”

“Is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth under pains and penalties of perjury.” Beca breathes deeply.

“Is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth under pains and penalties of perjury.”

“You may sit down.” She nods, sitting down on the wooden chair. ADA Weller stands, coming to lean with one arm on the witness stand, facing the court.

“Ms. Mitchell- can I call you Rebecca?” Weller says kindly.

“I prefer Beca, but either one is fine,” she shrugs. Tucker stands, readjusting himself so he can sit with his head on Beca’s lap. She pets him, trying to breathe deeply.

“Beca,” Weller nods. “Are you aware that if you lie or leave anything out, the courts can persecute you on the crimes of perjury?” Beca nods quickly. “Beca, the court stenographer needs a verbal answer for the record,” she adds gently.

“Yes, I understand,” Beca clarifies, her cheeks warming in mild embarrassment. Eddie smirks at the defense table and she shudders, turning to face Jesse instead.

“Good. So, you know why we’re here today. Can you tell the court?” Weller gestures out to the courtroom, and Beca can hear the clicking of the journalists’ cameras.

“I was the victim of a… a gang rape. It was Saturday, June 6th. I was at the Pride parade downtown with my friends all afternoon. When I was walking back to my apartment, six men stopped me in the street,” she says, inhaling through her nose. Tucker nudges her hand gently until she continues petting him.

“Do you see any of those men here today?” Beca nods before remembering what Weller had said about verbal answers.

“Yes.”

“Can you point them out?” she prompts.

“They’re sitting right there at the defense table,” she says, clearing her throat as she raises one arm to point them out. “Edward Bridges, Tyler Washington, and Michael Frasier. I, um, I didn’t know their names until the police caught them,” she clarifies. Eddie sneers and Michael rolls his eyes. Beca closes her eyes but she can hear one of them scoff.

“Are you okay, Beca?” Weller asks.

“Fine. Let’s continue,” she says, shaking her head as if to clear her mind. Weller moves, standing in front of Beca in an attempt to block the defendants from her line of view.

“Let’s talk about the assault,” Weller agrees. Beca closes her eyes, taking one more deep breath as ADA Weller starts to ask more questions.

 

After over an hour of of detailed questions about her assault, ADA Weller sits down and Mr. Milner stands.

“Becky-” he starts.

“It’s actually Beca, but you can call me Ms. Mitchell if it’s easier to remember,” Beca smiles snidely. He sighs heavily, lumbering towards her. Beca glances back at Eddie. He’s leaning on his elbows, leering at her.

“Miss Mitchell,” he corrects himself. “Thank you for taking time out of your  _ busy _ schedule to be here with us. Was it difficult to take time off work?” Beca shifts uncomfortably.

“Objection,” Weller calls, standing before Beca can even begin to answer this. “Relevance?”

“Just trying to be friendly,” Milner says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll move on. Miss Mitchell, on the night of this alleged rape, were you intoxicated?”

“I’d had a few drinks at the bar with my friends. But I wasn’t  _ drunk _ .”

“Well, your examination at the hospital included a blood test. Were you aware of this?”

“Yeah, of course,” Beca nodded slowly, unsure where he was going. He walks over to the table, rifling through his papers.

“Well, your blood test revealed a blood alcohol content of .042 an hour and a half  _ after _ this alleged ‘assault.’ Isn’t it possible that during the assault, you were indeed a bit inebriated? Your inhibitions were down and your libido was raging?” 

“No! Well, I mean I… I guess anything’s  _ possible _ , but I wasn’t stumbling. I wasn’t dizzy, or fuzzy. I was clearheaded. I remember everything, even if I don’t want to,” she says harshly. She was  _ not _ drunk. “And if I  _ was _ inebriated, they would have known not to take advantage of me.”

“Mhmm,” he says, clearly disbelieving. Beca huffs. He continues the interrogation this way, trying to twist everything she’d said earlier to make it sound like she’d come on to them, like she was into it. He asked about her past sexual history, her interest in BDSM (that she didn’t even  _ have _ ), and her embarrassment about being caught.

“But Ms. Mitchell,” he says, laughing slightly. “We have witness reports. Neighbors who lived in the apartment complex recalled hearing you say, ‘no, don’t stop. Please don’t stop!’ How can you still say you didn’t enjoy this?”

“That’s not what I said,” Beca denies.

“Every single witness heard those words. Let me remind you about the penalties for perjury,” he laughs snidely.

“No, I said those words but not… Not like that,” Beca explains. Tucker puts a paw on her lap. “I said ‘No. Don’t. Stop.  _ Please _ , don’t. Stop.’”

“I don’t hear a difference,” he shrugs.

“There’s a clear difference in my inflection and tone,” she argues. “I wanted them to  _ stop _ . I begged them to  _ stop _ . Please, don’t use my words against me.”

“But, Miss Mitchell, it was not just your  _ words _ that urged them on, was it? You experienced not one, not two, but  _ three _ orgasms during this sexual encounter. Doesn’t that indicate that you enjoyed yourself? Quite a bit, I’d expect,” he laughs. A few people in the courtroom laugh, and Beca wants to disappear. Her face turns red and her vision goes cloudy with tears.

“My body… responded. I didn’t want it. I couldn’t control it, and I couldn’t stop it. But I… I wasn’t enjoying myself. I… I said no. It shouldn’t matter what my body did because I begged them to stop. I didn’t  _ want _ that,” she pleads with the jurors.

“Well, clearly you did!” he argues, leaning against the witness stand. She leans back.

“I didn’t want it,” she repeats quietly.

“Maybe after, when your pretty new friend found you, naked, shaking and  _ covered  _ in your own arousal-” Beca whimpers.

“Objection!” Milner ignores her.

“Maybe you felt a little dirty when they didn’t send you flowers after. Maybe you were embarrassed because your sex fantasy was discovered. But you wanted those men to do that, didn’t you? Your body was  _ aching _ to be touched, and they gave it to you. Didn’t they? Well, didn’t they? Didn’t you feel better after they touched you, after you experienced three orgasms?”

“Your honor, objection! He’s badgering the witness!” Beca is crying now, her shoulders shaking slightly.

“Sustained. Jury will disregard the defense’s last statement. Step back, Mr. Milner, and move on. One more misstep like that and I will hold you in contempt,” the judge says sternly. He scoffs, turning around. “Do you need a minute, Miss Mitchell?” the judge asks in a softer voice. Tucker paws at her and she takes several deep breaths, getting her breathing under control.

“I’m okay to continue, your honor. Thank you,” she says, her voice still thick with tears.

“Okay,” the judge nods. “Mr. Milner, do you have any more questions for this witness?”

“No,” Mr. Milner sighs. “She’s said all her pretty words. But her body tells a different story,” he shrugs. “Just like on June 6th.”

“Objection,” Weller sighs as she stands.

“Withdrawn,” Milner says, holding his hands in mock surrender. But he makes meaningful eye contact with the jury before walking back to the defense table.

“You may step down,” the judge tells Beca. Nodding, she follows the court officer back to the gallery before walking quickly out of the courtroom, running to the nearest bathroom. She can hear them calling for the next witness as the door slams shut behind her. She barely makes it to the bathroom before throwing up and Tucker is whimpering, licking her arms while Jesse waits outside.


	21. Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluff, but also some plot development? IDK... Also... my sense of time is all skewed in this fic so the dates may not make sense... Just roll with it. It's fiction.......

Jesse waited about ten minutes before finding a female court officer. She was dressed in a black uniform similar to that of a police officer, and she happily followed Jesse when he explained the situation.

“So, she ran in there puking about ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. I texted her and called her but she isn’t answering,” he explains quietly. The woman nods.

“I’ll go make sure she’s alright. You stay out here. You said her name is Beca?” Jesse nods, biting his thumb nail and watching as the woman disappears into the bathroom. Not two minutes later, Beca is smiling and coming out with the officer.

“You’re better?” Jesse asks, putting a hand on her shoulder.  She flinches, so he removes it, taking a step back.

“Yeah, I got a little sick… Then I took some time to rinse my mouth and splash water on my face. I’m better now, but I’d like to get home and brush my teeth. Do you know who’s testifying now?” she asks, making a face, the taste of vomit still lingering.

“Right now, uh, I saw one of the police officers go in. I think he was the first one to talk to you. Makes him, like, an outcry witness, or something. They’re getting an ER nurse, then Chloe. But I don’t think they’ll get to Chloe before they recess. I heard someone say Judge Donovan has another case this afternoon so when they break for lunch, they break for the day,” Jesse explains as they start to walk towards the door. But Beca stalls.

“Only until lunch? That’s…” she checks her watch and finishes, “one, maybe two  more hours. I can handle that. Let me go get a water and a coffee to rinse my mouth and we can go back in there.” Jesse shrugs, nodding.

“Um, yeah, okay. There’s a cart over here. I can get you something to eat, too if you want. Um, thanks,” he calls to the officer as she goes back to where she’s meant to be. He leads Beca over to the cart before they slip back into the courtroom.

 

Going back in the second time was not nearly as difficult for Beca. She hated having to listen to the officer, and then the nurse, talk about her. They talked about how she looked, how she acted. One called it a panic attack. The nurse noted her hypervigilance, a common symptom of PTSD. It was hard for Beca to sit there and listen to the defense attorney try and make her sound like a psychotic liar and not jump up to defend herself. But it definitely wasn’t as hard as testifying for nearly three hours, giving graphic details of how they held her down and raped her, or accused of being a lying whore. All in all, a crap day, but hey! She figures it could always  be worse.

“Can we stop at the grocery store on the way back to my apartment?” Beca asks, turning down the radio in Jesse’s crappy old pickup truck.

“Why? You run out of frozen pizzas and ramen noodles?” he chuckles. It’s no secret that Beca doesn’t cook.

“No, I’m just… in the mood to cook but I have nothing in my house,”she hums, smiling out the window. Tucker smiles up at her, tongue lolling out and she scratches behind his ears. Jesse just watches her carefully for a minute.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” he finally asks. She just turns, shrugging, and smiles at him.

“Chloe cooks a lot… when I’m not doing so well. And I feel… good right now. So I wanna cook for her. To make it up to her, I guess. I’m… sick of living in this… dark place. I was talking to Kate yesterday. And she reminded me I did everything right. I survived it. Like, like, if you got mugged, and they had you at gunpoint, would you give them your wallet?” She turns to Jesse, raising an eyebrow when he doesn’t immediately answer.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” he stammers.

“Right. Because if you didn’t do what they said, they’d have killed you. And Kate keeps telling me that’s what I did. I did… what I had to do. I’m trying to live with that. I’m moving out of this dark place because I did what I had to do. I’m moving out of this dark place by… cooking dinner and… baking a cake!” She smiles out the window again. “I’ll bake her a cake. And I’ll cook dinner for us! I can make… tacos? I’m pretty good at Mexican.” Jesse just laughs. He’s pretty sure the closest Beca has ever gotten to making Mexican is reheating leftovers in the microwave.

“Anything you say, Becs. You should text her back, though. Your phone’s been going off for five minutes now,” he says. Beca beams and starts to text Chloe back saying yes, she is alive, and yes, being at court did suck. But she’s alive. And she’s here. She’s making it out of that dark place one step at a time.

 

“No!” Beca shouts when she hears the door open. She runs to the living room, hair streaked with flour and palms covered in wet sugar. Chloe stands in the doorway, key still in the lock with wide eyes, staring at Beca and giggling. “No, Chloe! You’re home early! Why are you home early?”

Chloe closes the door, still smiling. “I had no meetings or professional development junk last period and I cancelled all of my after school stuff because of the trial; I told them I needed to be available. So… My schedule was clear. I cut out early. What… is in your hair? And your shirt… Are you  _ baking _ ?” Chloe giggles, pulling at Beca’s hair and her shirt as she talks. She tries to move towards the kitchen, but Beca pushes her towards the bedroom.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she whines. “And I’m cooking dinner, too.”

“You should let me help you,” Chloe whispers, standing still despite Beca’s shoving. “I’m really good at cooking and baking,” she says with a shrug.

“No! It’s a surprise! I’m trying to be… better! I’m trying to be happier and surprise you by cooking!” Beca stomps her foot now, like a toddler in the throes of a temper tantrum. Her lower lip wobbles. “I wanna be better for you,” she explains in a whisper. Chloe wraps her arms around Beca.

“Babe, you know it’s not that fast,” Chloe whispers.

“I know, I just… I’m trying so  _ hard _ .” Beca’s voice cracks, and Chloe holds her tighter. She can hear Tucker’s paws pattering on the tile floor as he comes to care for his owner.

“I know you are, babe. I know! How about… you make the cupcakes, and I won’t look while you decorate, so it’s still a surprise. And I can help you when it’s time for making dinner, hmm? What did you get for dinner?” She uses a soft, gentle voice like she’d use talking to a kid, but Beca appreciates the sentiment.

“Tacos,” she sighs, finally pulling away. “I got a recipe to make it from scratch… Like, sort of? I got a spice packet thing and everything else I’m doing myself. Oh! Plus I’m making rice!” Beca grins when she says this and Chloe smiles back.

“Perfect. So you will go bake, and I will go watch something on TV, okay?” Beca nods. “Okay. Perfect.” And she swoops in to kiss Beca’s cheek before skipping to the bedroom to put on a more comfortable outfit. Beca stands frozen for a moment, reaching her fingertips out to touch the spot on her cheek where she swore she could still feel Chloe’s lips.

 

“Make sure those aren’t burning Becs,” Chloe calls from the living room. She’s been catching up on all of her TV shows while shouting baking tips to Beca in the kitchen. Tucker is laying on the floor between the living room and the kitchen, keeping an eye on both girls.

“Damnit, shit, fuck,” Beca squeaks. Chloe can hear feet running and rolls her eyes.

“Did you forget to set a timer?” There’s no answer as the oven door scrapes open. “Becs?”

“We’re good! Cupcakes are fine! Caught it in time,” Beca calls back. 

“Good job, babe. Now let those cool while you put the next batch in the oven. You can’t frost them until they’re completely cool or they’ll fall apart,” she advises.

“I  _ know _ what I’m doing Chlo,” Beca calls. But in reality, she was putting the cap back on the frosting can. So she apparently isn’t very good at baking, but Chloe’s tips from the couch are keeping her from burning the house down.

“Can I come in and get a snack?” Chloe calls back after a moment. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll bring you something. Let me just set the timer.”  She wipes her batter-splattered hands on her shirt- it’s already dirty anyway- and sets the timer.

“There’s crackers and cheese. Could you get me that, please?” Beca nods even though Chloe can’t see her and makes a plate for them to share. When she goes into the living room, Chloe laughs, holding up a hand to stop her. “Wait. You cannot sit down on this couch like that. You’re covered in flour, and egg, and batter! Go clean up and you can sit.”

“No, I don’t have time to shower before the next batch comes out,” Beca moans. “Let me sit and watch TV.”

“Only if you take off those grubby clothes,” Chloe chuckles. Beca grumbles something, drops the plate on the coffee table and begins to peel off the food covered clothes. “Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Chloe asks, laughing as Beca sits back on the couch, snuggled up next to her.

“Sitting on the couch. You said I couldn’t sit if I wore those nasty clothes. So I took them off. Now, come here I’m cold.” Beca holds out her arms and Chloe pulls her close, snuggling around her to keep her warm.

“If you’re cold, we can turn the air conditioning off. Or just go outside. It’s late June in LA. It’s nearly 90 degrees out there,” Chloe jokes.

“Not going anywhere in my underwear,” Beca mumbles, nuzzling her nose into Chloe’s shoulder. “Pass the crackers.” Chloe lets out a shuddering sigh, reaching forward to grab the plate of cheese and crackers. They sit together, tangled up in each other and eating cheese and crackers until the timer goes off. Beca slides off the couch,slips her clothes back on and pulls out the last batch of cupcakes.

 

Beca goes to shower once all of the cupcakes are cooling- and she makes Chloe swear not to touch them. But when she takes the time to stop in the shower, really takes the time to stop and go over her day, she starts to fall apart. She starts shaking, her chest heaving with sobs. She  _ hates _ the things that defense attorney insinuated. She  _ hates _ what she had to say. She  _ hated _ explaining how it felt to be touched. How her body wanted it, but her mind was begging it to stop. She couldn’t control how her back arched into their touch, or how her hair stood on end. How blood rushed to her center and she cried out in a moment of blinding ecstasy. She hates it so much, and one afternoon of baking cupcakes and watching TV in her underwear in the air conditioning can’t erase the morning from hell.

“Beca, I wanted you to know all the cupcakes are cool,” Chloe calls gently. Beca chokes on her sobs, trying to respond. “I know you’re not okay in there. But I want you to know that Tuck and I are out here for you. Good days and bad days happen. Life is a pile of good things, and bad things. Nothing is permanent. This will  _ pass _ . I’m out here whenever you’re ready.” Beca is gasping, sniffling, but she opens the door.

“C-c-come i-in here pl-ease,” she whimpers. She hears the door open and she sits down under the shower spray, drawing her knees into her chest and rocking back and forth. When she looks out, Chloe is sitting on the edge of the tub, rubbing her back.

“Jesse told me how terrible court was,” she whispers. “I didn’t wanna bring it up.” Beca nods, hiccuping as she cries.

“Ca-an you s-sing?” Beca stutters after a few minutes of failed attempts. Chloe nods, immediately searching for a song.

“ _ The drought was the very worst, when the flowers that we’ve grown together died of thirst. It was months and months of back and forth. You’re still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can’t wear anymore. Hung my head as I lost the war; the sky turned black like a perfect storm,” _ she sings, her voice gentle and soft. She continues the song, slowly going through many of Taylor’s songs. She slows down faster ones to make them soothing. After a while, Beca is calm and humming along.

“Can we decorate the cupcakes?” Chloe asks. 

“Mhmm. And you can start tacos because I’m hungry.” Chloe grins, standing and leading Beca into the kitchen. When Beca presents her with the first cupcake, sloppily frosted and covered haphazardly with sprinkles, she laughs and takes it. It was a little dry, but Beca had worked hard on it, and she seemed better while she was making it.

“Delicious,” Chloe declares, taking the frosting with her finger and dropping it on Beca’s nose. Beca makes a face and they continue to make dinner.


	22. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Chloe's turn to testify and... things don't exactly go as planned...

“We should do something… summery,” Chloe sighs.

“Feeling antsy now that school is all over?” Beca teases. She and Chloe haven’t talked about it yet, but Chloe is getting ready to go to trial today. She’s one of the next witnesses up to testify, and Beca is going to try and go to support her. 

“Well, kinda,” Chloe grins as she pulls on her blouse. Beca just lays on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I finished all the grades, all the professional development… I’ve got, like, a month and a half before I have to go back for more meeting to prepare for the school year. We should, like… go to Disneyland! Or the beach,” Chloe muses. When she’s got her skirt all zippered up, she comes to kneel on the bed, her hair dangling over Beca’s face. “Are you a beach person?”

“Not really,” Beca winces apologetically. “But I’ll go with you, if you want! I just need, like, an umbrella. I don’t tan well.” Chloe wrinkles her nose with a teasing smile and Beca’s heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, you’re pretty pale,” Chloe smirks. “You’re, like, a vampire or something. I bet you don’t even have tan lines. You’re just one big shade of pale.” Beca’s jaw drops and she props herself up on her elbows to shove Chloe’s shoulder.

“You jerk!” Beca whines.

Chloe laughs, “you remember I’ve seen you in the shower, right? Your pale ass is not the palest thing about you. You’re literally the same shade all over- stop hitting me!” Beca was slapping Chloe’s arm, sitting up now and punching her lightly.

“You’re so rude!” Beca laughs. She pauses a moment, still chuckling. But the only reason Chloe knows what she looks like naked is because she was raped, and Chloe found her out there naked on the ground. And because she’s had so many god damned panic attacks, and they practically always end with Chloe rescuing her from the shower, or putting her in the shower because she pissed herself. It’s embarrassing, and degrading, and fucking terrible. She wants Chloe to know what she looks like naked because Beca  _ chose _ to show her. She wants this to be  _ her _ choice. But it hasn’t been, not since that dumb mother fucker Eddie Bridges stopped her on the street and told her to  _ smile _ .

“Too soon to joke about it?” Chloe whispers. Beca had been sitting in silence for a moment now, the laugh dying on her face as she stared towards the window at nothing. Beca just shuts her mouth, nodding. “Alright,” Chloe nods. “Sorry. Do you want me to leave so you can get dressed or… are you not coming to court today?” Beca closes her eyes, sets her jaw, and reaches down to pet Tucker, who’s been sitting by the side of her bed since she woke up.

“I’m going to court. Just give me five minutes to put on some clothes and we can stop for breakfast on the way,” she mumbles after a moment. She clears her throat. “At that diner you’ve been talking about. On Elmhurst avenue.” She opens her eyes when she feels Chloe grinning down at her.

“Okay,” she whispers gently. “I’ll be right outside,” she adds, kissing Beca’s cheek quickly before running out into the living room. Beca smiles, puts her hand to her cheek. She hadn’t even flinched.

 

“So, Ms. Beale, what exactly is your relationship to the… supposed victim Miss Mitchell?” the defense attorney asks. Chloe bristles and glances at Beca. Throughout most of Chloe’s testimony, she sat smiling at Chloe, occasionally glancing off into the distance as some memory or flashback overtook her. But as soon as the defense attorney stepped up, Beca stared at her lap.

“Beca is my friend; I met her earlier on the day she was assaulted. We were, um, at the Pride parade, and we saw some protesters. She thought I was someone else, so she said something about how awful the protests were, and…” Chloe trails off chuckling awkwardly. “I made some stupid joke about pissing off the homophobes by kissing and I, um, well I-I kissed her. Then we went our separate ways and-”

“Did she consent to the kissing?” the attorney interrupts. Chloe tilts her head.

“What? I mean… Not-not, um verbally, but, like… She didn’t say no, and when she was done I let her go. But I didn’t actually talk to her until after the assault-”

“So, you’re saying you didn’t have her permission to kiss her?”

“I-I, um… That’s not the point. I only met her briefly. I got to know her after they raped her-” Chloe tries to explain.

“Objection, your honor. Speculation,” the attorney laughs meanly.

“No, your honor! Not speculation! I witnessed the assault!” Chloe protests.

“Sustained, but be careful with this line of questioning Mr. Milner. Stick to the what she witnessed in relation to the assault,” the judge warns.

“Your honor, these questions speak to the witness’ credibility but also to the alleged victim’s sexual proclivities,” he replies. Chloe looks out into the crowd to see Beca blushing, her chest moving quickly as she tries to control her breathing. Tucker is pulling on the leash; Chloe can see him trying to pull Beca out into the hall.

“Tread carefully, Mr. Milner,” the judge reminds him. He nods.

“I repeat my question, Ms. Beale: did you have permission to kiss Ms. Mitchell? Verbal, affirmative permission?” Chloe looks down at her hands in her lap.

“No, I did not. But when she pulled away, I stopped,” she says quietly.

“Did the alleged victim respond well when you kissed her?” he smirks. Chloe opens and closes her mouth. She is afraid to look at Beca.

“Well, I mean, um… Sort of? She kissed me back for a second then pushed me away and-”

“Oh, so she wanted to be kissed without permission? She liked it?” He interrupts. Chloe sputters, her cheeks reddening.

“Objection!” ADA Weller says, standing. “He’s asking the witness about the victim’s possible feelings. And it isn’t related to her testimony. I move that this entire line of questioning be struck from the record.”

“Sustained. This is unrelated to the events the witness has been called to testify about. Jury will disregard the witness’ and the defense’s statements,” the judge nods. “Move on, Mr. Milner.” He frowns and grumbles a little but comes over to stand in front of Chloe.

“So, how close were you when you witnessed the alleged assault?” He asks. Chloe looks up to find Beca leaving, the door swinging shut behind her.

 

Chloe finds her half an hour later, once she’d been dismissed and the court was moving on to the next testimony. Beca was sitting on the steps outside the courthouse, having found a shady part underneath the columns. Tucker was sitting with his head on her lap, Beca’s blouse thrown to the side. Her tank top is damp with sweat, and her hair is thrown up in a messy bun. She’s drinking water but stares off towards the busy city street, not even blinking.

“Beca?” Chloe calls out gently, the way she might approach a possibly rabid dog.

“I did like it,” she replies, her voice soft. Chloe doesn’t answer. She makes a face, unsure what Beca is talking about, but Beca isn’t looking at her. “When you kissed me. I liked it. It was a surprise, and yeah I didn’t ask you to do it, but I loved that. It was… passionate and cool. It was hot, and I kissed you back. When my… my head caught up with me and I thought about how I was kissing a stranger, I pushed you away.” Chloe pauses, waits for more explanation.

“Okay, but… What does that… Beca, that’s okay,” Chloe says slowly, very confused.

“I liked it. I liked being kissed without someone checking if it was okay first. What if… What if I actually… Part of me liked those guys being dominant and kissing me. I… had  _ th-three _ orgasms. Clearly, part of me liked it. I’ve never… had that many before… Not with anyone.” She barks out a laugh. “Sometimes I don’t even have  _ one _ . But I had three. So I liked it. And I don’t… That’s terrifying. I don’t know what to do about that. What does that make me? Some pervert who- who- who…  _ likes _ being humiliated? Who liked being… held down and  _ forced _ ? I don’t… What if this lawyer is right? What if I only… protested because I was embarrassed?” Chloe goes to wipe away Beca’s tears as they fall down her cheeks but Beca pulls away, wiping them away with her fist.

“Whatever the reason… Beca, you said  _ no. _ It doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t matter if you are- are- if you’re into whips and chains and being tied down- which is totally a lifestyle that some people enjoy and it’s cool if you  _ do _ like that- but you said no. And ‘no’ means full stop. Regardless of what our bodies do, ‘no’ means red light, it means  _ stop _ . And they didn’t, so they are in the wrong. Do you understand?” Beca nods. “No, Beca I need to hear you. This is not your fault. Do you understand?” Chloe repeats.

“I-I-I understand,” Beca mumbles. “I understand. It… I said no. That’s all that matters. I… I said no. I said no,” she repeats. Chloe nods, putting a hand on her shoulder. Beca clasps her hand on top of Chloe’s and holds tight. She breathes deeply. “I said no.”

“You said…  _ no _ ,” Chloe agrees.

“I’m sorry I left during your testimony. I just- I couldn’t,” Beca says softly after a moment.

“It’s okay,” Chloe smiles, brushing a loose strand of hair back. “I understand you needed space to breathe. Wanna go for a walk? I think there’s this ice cream place a few blocks down.”

“Ice cream? It’s barely even eleven,” Beca laughs.

“Fine, we’ll stop somewhere for food first. It’ll be fun. And it’s super hot,” Chloe whines.

“I know. I heard it’s supposed to hit 100 by the end of the week,” Beca agrees as Chloe helps her to her feet. She puts the blouse over her shoulder rather than putting it back on.

“Stacie and Aubrey have a pool in their apartment complex,” she points out. “And I’ve got a key to the building. We could go now… While the residents are at work… Stacie said they have no young people in the whole building, so no kids on summer break.”

“We could go swimming,” Beca grins.

“And there’s a little wading pool… Tucker could get his paws wet so he doesn’t get overheated,” she adds as they link arms. They start to walk down the steps, not paying much attention to anyone. Suddenly, a herd of people with cameras and microphones start shouting Beca’s name, running over. She freezes, and Chloe tries to keep pulling her, but the reporters swarm them.

“Miss Mitchell! Miss Mitchell! How is the trial going?”

“Miss Mitchell, the defense claims you consented to the sex. Is that true?”

“Miss Mitchell, is it true you were drunk at the time?”

“Miss Mitchell, is Miss Beale your girlfriend?” The reporters are shouting over each other like rabid animals, and Beca is frozen in fear.

“Back up,” Chloe shouts protectively. Tucker barks, and they take a few steps back, but they still shout at her, stick their microphones and cameras in her face.

“Make a path,” a court officer orders, thankfully running over to usher Chloe and Beca down the steps. Their car is parked down the street, and he walks them until the horde of reporters leave them alone. Beca leans against the car, breathing deeply with her eyes closed.

“So… no ice cream,” Chloe whispers. Beca shakes her head. After a moment, she opens her eyes and gives Chloe a crooked smile.

“Not until we have our lunch,” she teases. Her voice breaks at one point, but she’s trying and that’s all that matters to Chloe. Beca holds out her arm and Chloe links her own arm, leading Beca down the street to find something for lunch.


	23. Summer Daze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Enjoy some summer fluff. Some post court fluff. Some swimming fluff. Some loving fluff.

They ended up splitting a chicken sandwich before going to get their ice cream. The entire way, people had cooed over Tucker. A few people eyed Beca like they recognized her from the papers, but no one said anything. They had decided to get ice cream and sit down in a nearby park; it was a small, unkempt park but had a nice bench underneath a tree.

“Why does a dog need ice cream?” Beca teases.

“Because he’s hot and it tastes good. Besides, I paid for it so why are you still complaining! He enjoyed it, see?” Chloe defends, pointing to Tucker. He was now chewing on the paper cup, having finished his scoop of vanilla ice cream and dog treat.

“You spoil him,” Beca responds simply, but she smiles when she says it.

“Well, only because he’s the cutest dog ever,” Chloe coos.

“You’re embarrassing him,” Beca retorts.

“Shut up and finish your stupid, boring chocolate chip ice cream.” Chloe rolls her eyes and Beca shoves her playfully.

“I’ll have you know, chocolate chip is not boring; it’s a  _ classic _ . You’re the crazy one with your stupid mocha chip with rainbow sprinkles,” she teases. Chloe smirks.

“In a cup,” she adds pointedly. Because Chloe can’t stand how ice cream cones drip all over her hand. Like Beca’s is doing right now. To prove her point, she grabs Beca’s wrist and brings it close to her face. The ice cream drips down her fingers and onto her forearm; Chloe traces its path with her tongue, cleaning up the mess. “I told you you’d make a mess if you got a cone,” she whispers, winking. She turns back to people watching in the park.

Beca, meanwhile, had to try and remember how to breathe because  _ what the fuck was that. _ Chloe, her friend, just licked her. Okay, so granted she licked the ice cream off her hand but  _ still. _ And even worse was that Beca was… kind of turned on? Chloe was her friend, but when she licked her hand like that, it felt like more. It felt… vaguely sexual and Beca liked that. It made her want to take Chloe by the hand, pull her in close and kiss her. It made her want Chloe to take her home and lick a trail up the column of her neck, down her torso. It made her want Chloe to want her. It made her want  _ Chloe. _

“Let’s go swimming,” she says quickly. Her chest was red and her face was beaded with sweat, but she couldn’t totally attribute it to the blistering, dry heat. Tucker stood and Chloe chuckled.

“Yes ma’am,” she giggles. “Are we taking the bus, or should we call for a cab?” She’s already pulling up the number for a cab company.

“Cab,” Beca squeaks. She can’t look Chloe in the eye. Chloe just nods. They sit awkwardly after Chloe’s ordered the cab.

“Can I have a lick?” Chloe finally asks, breaking the silence. Beca turns, red faced to gape at Chloe, who bursts out laughing. “Oh my God!” Beca shakes her head, confused. “I’m sorry, you’re- your face was- oh my god!” she wheezes between laughs.

“You’re weird,” Beca huffs.

“I’m sorry I licked the ice cream off your hand without asking,” Chloe says sincerely, instantly sobering. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” Beca softens.

“No, it wasn’t… I just- I felt… It’s fine. I kinda… liked it,” she mumbles quietly. Chloe beams. “Don’t read too much into that, Beale,” she warns teasingly. Though she isn’t sure exactly what ‘too much’ is.

“So, does that mean I can lick it again?” Chloe teases, bumping Beca’s shoulder.

“Only because I have to finish it before the cab comes and it’s melting all over my hand,” Beca replies teasingly. Chloe winks, swooping in to lick the stray drops of ice cream off her hand. Tucker laps up the ones that make it to the ground. Beca just rolls her eyes, laughing as she finishes the cone.

 

“So, you’re sure this isn’t illegal?” Beca whispers, tiptoeing through the unmanned lobby, glancing around as if looking for security cameras.

“You idiot,” Chloe snorts. “You don’t have to sneak around. We have the key; we’re not breaking in. Besides, I do this all the time. Their landlord knows me by name.” Beca blushes, standing.

“Well, pardon me. But this apartment is so empty it feels like we’re doing something illegal. How the hell is there no one around here?” she asks, following Chloe into the elevator. “Hey, where are we going? This says the pool is on the first floor, not the seventh,” she points out.

“Do  _ you _ have a bathing suit? Or a towel? I don’t. I was gonna borrow something of Bree’s. You could use one of Stacie’s tops and one of Bree’s bottoms.. I already texted them,” she explains. Beca blushes, not having thought about bathing suits. “And we should get Tucker some more water.” Beca nods and they ride in silence. Chloe hums along with the elevator music, tapping her toes and wiggling her hips.

“Is it even possible for you to stand still? Ever?” Beca teases as they walk out towards the apartment. 

“Nope,” Chloe giggles as she gets out her spare key and opens the door. 

“Oh my God,” Beca gasps. Their apartment is much larger than hers, open and full of light. They have a large white couch that curves against the wall in a L-shape that faces the TV. There’s a window over their kitchen counters that overlooks the city and the counter gleams in the sunlight. All of their appliances are chrome- except for one garish pink toaster. There’s not a spot of dust anywhere, and their picture frames are perfectly straightened with an almost military precision.

“Yeah, Aubrey likes to clean,” Chloe shrugs, leading Beca down a carpeted hallway to a bedroom. 

“This apartment is, like… twice mine?” Beca whispers reverently. Their bedroom is just as orderly, but it has more color. Warm reds and soft blues, pastel greens and oranges. There are some clothes left out but folded, shoes on the floor but in a line. Makeup sits on the vanity, lined up but not messy. The pictures are more personal in here: Stacie kissing Aubrey under some trees on a beach, a selfie of the girls making silly faces, and a picture of Aubrey lifting Stacie off her feet on the brunette’s apparent graduation day.

“Well, I mean Aubrey is a junior attorney or something at some corporate law firm so she makes pretty good money. And Stacie is some super smart naval science engineer researcher or consultant or something. But she’s, like, one of the few people in the country who can do what she does and the government pays her well to consult with the military or something? I don’t know, but she makes a lot. So, yeah, and they eventually want kids so they wanted a decent sized apartment. Here, do you want a purple top or orange?” Chloe holds up two strapless tops and Beca wrinkles her nose.

“Are those the only options? I like straps.” Chloe waves her hand, gesturing at the drawer. Grabbing a black and white polka dotted bikini, Chloe moves to go to the bathroom and change. Beca rifles through the door, finding mostly strapless tops or lacey ones that would show far too much skin for Beca’s liking. Eventually she found one that was a cobalt blue. Going into what Chloe had indicated as Aubrey’s drawer, she finds a white bathing suit bottom. She’s turning around to go find the bathroom to change when she sees Chloe in the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom door was wide open and Chloe was topless, her shirt and bra in Chloe’s hands. She was folding them, putting them on the toilet.

“Dude!” Beca squeaked. Chloe just turns her head, smiling. She puts the bathing suit top over her head.

“What? Can you tie this for me?” She turns and Beca steps forward, taking the straps in her hands as she tries them.

“You never close any doors… Do you have, like… no modesty?” Beca scoffs. Chloe shrugs, turning around.

“Sure I do. But we’re friends. And I’ve seen you naked before, you’ve seen me. So it’s, like… fair. It’s my body Beca, and I’m confident about it. I don’t mind letting my friends see,” she explains. Beca feels a bit like an ass now.

“Sorry, I just… It took me by surprise,” she mumbles.

“I know,” Chloe hums. “Go get changed.” Beca nods, closing the bathroom door to put on her borrowed swimsuit. She feels uncomfortable and a little awkward when she comes out, folding her arms across her stomach. Stacie’s top is a little too big, and Aubrey’s bottoms are a little saggy. She feels like a little girl playing dress up in her older sister’s clothes. 

“Can you grab the towels?” she asks as she comes out, pulling nervously on the bathing suit bottoms, trying to tug them into place. She finds Chloe digging in the nearby linen closet, already tossing colorful beach towels on the bed. She’d somehow also pulled on a little white coverup. “Hey, where’d you get that?” Beca asks. Tucker, who’d been sitting on the ground next to the bathroom door, perked up.

“Their closet…?” Chloe laughs.

“Do you just steal their stuff all the time?” Beca teases.

“We made a deal. As long as I wash what I use, I can borrow their stuff to go swimming. They both work, and I have summers off so they figure someone should use that nice pool,” Chloe shrugs. Beca nods, catching the floral cover-up that Chloe tossed her way. She pulled it over her head and slipped her flats back onto her feet. “Now, let’s go swimming,” Chloe grins, looping her arm with Beca’s.

 

“Oh, this feels so good,” Beca sighs as she floats on her back. Tucker was sitting on the pool deck, dipping his paws in the water and watching Beca and Chloe.

“It’s awesome. Nothing better than floating in a cool pool in the summer after having a nice ice cream,” Chloe sighs. “I wish Tucker wasn’t so hairy or he could come in but his fur will clog up the pool drain.”

“Are you hot, Tuck?” Beca asks him, swimming over to him. He lolls his tongue out, yapping at her. “I can splash you. Huh, boy? Yeah?” He jumps up, leaning down to lick her face. Wiggling his bum, he barks playfully. Beca just laughs, sending a cascade of water over the edge and onto him. He jumps away as it soaks him before trotting back. 

“You’re splashing him!” Chloe laughs.

“Thanks captain obvious,” Beca snorts as she continues to splash Tucker. After a pause, she can feel water hitting the back of her head. “Did you just splash me, Beale?” She turns to find Chloe smirking at her.

“What are  _ you _ going to do about it?” she challenges. Beca raises one eyebrow, accepting the challenge as she kicks off the wall and launches herself at Chloe. She grabs onto her, wrapping her legs around Chloe before dunking her underwater. She can hear Chloe laughing underwater before letting her back up. Beca grins triumphantly, completely latched onto Chloe. But Chloe just grabs her legs tighter before jumping backwards and taking them both underwater. Beca had been expecting this and took in a huge breath before they went underwater. 

She’s still kicking and thrashing about in the water, laughing as they go. There’s a big splash, and when the girls come up for air, Tucker is swimming towards them, looking determined. Chloe laughs as she releases Beca. Tucker swims a circle around her, sniffing her.

“Aw, he’s rescuing you! Isn’t he sweet?” Chloe coos. Beca rolls her eyes before floating towards the steps so that Tuck can stand rather than swim in circles.

“Yeah, yeah. He probably just got hot,” she rolls her eyes. Chloe ignores Beca, floating after Tuck to praise him for his bravery and chivalry. Beca just smiles, getting out to relax in the sun. Tucker follows, shaking his wet fur everywhere.

“C’mon, Tuck. Lie down. Aubrey and Stacie would hate me if I let a wet, smelly dog into their apartment,” Beca urges him. Chloe, still in the pool and floating around, smiles, doggy paddling around as she watches Beca and Tuck stretch out in the sun.  _ The dog days of summer, _ she thinks to herself with a laugh.


	24. Back In Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alas, all fluff must end as the plot progresses with angst... Court proceedings restart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I edited this (very slightly) to make the sleeping situation compliant with future chapters

Beca decides to skip court for the next few weeks. She can’t keep going and listen to countless doctors and witnesses detail what they think happened to her. Beca can’t go another day listening to Mr. Milner call her a liar and try and twist their words. They make her look like a fool, argue that no one truly knows what’s happened except for Beca and the defendants- which is true, but when he says it, he paints her as a liar and his defendants as _victims_.

She can’t do that, not for the next few days. She needs to spend a few days just _being_. She’s taken to her keyboard and her mixing equipment again, trying to turn all of these feelings into something productive. Her music is mostly depressing, the melodies far too dark for human consumption. For one of her therapy sessions, Beca brings her notebook to Kate. They talk about the lyrics she’s writing, how the words make her feel. When she got home, she went back to her keyboard and put the melodies and the words together.

Over the fourth of July weekend, Chloe took Beca out to a cabin in upstate Washington that Aubrey’s parents own. They hardly ever use it during this time, and it was isolated enough that Beca didn’t have to deal with crowds. Chloe figured she was over parades for a while. Beca used the time to tweak her song, finally showing it to Chloe as they watched a local fireworks display from the roof.

“This is… incredible, Beca. Is this your voice?” Chloe whispers, clutching the headphones to her ears. Beca nods, blushing. “This is… haunting, and chilling, and _beautiful_ . You could… This is so good. _Thank you_ for showing this to me. I’m… I’m honored that you felt comfortable, Becs.” Beca nods, uncomfortable with all this… emotion.

“Yeah, well… You saw me naked, so,” she shrugs awkwardly, clicking her tongue. She runs it over her teeth, crossing her arms over her stomach as if shielding herself. Or maybe she’s trying to hold herself together. She can’t tell anymore.

“Don’t do that, Beca. Don’t… deflect,” Chloe chides. “It’s… You can let me in if you feel comfortable. And I won’t comment on it if it makes you uncomfortable. But you should know that I understand how hard it is for you to let people in, and I am honored.” Beca nods stiffly and Chloe chuckles. Leaning in to kiss Beca’s temple, she grabs for her drink.

“Happy fourth, weirdo,” Beca mumbles.

“Happy fourth,” Chloe sighs, leaning her head into Beca’s shoulder.

 

When they return to their apartment, Beca finds a message to call back ADA Weller.

“Beca, did you have a nice weekend?” she asks when Beca calls her back. Chloe is unpacking in the guest bedroom- which has since become her own bedroom (though she usually ends up sleeping on the couch because she fell asleep doing something, or in Beca’s bed as she tried to help calm her down after an attack or a nightmare\- plus, the mattress in the guest bed is in dire need for replacement and practically unusable).

“Yeah, it was good to get away. Is there a problem? Why did your office call me?” Beca asks, picking at a stray thread on her shirt. Tucker follows her with his eyes as she paces the kitchen.

“There’s no problem,” Weller says quickly, reassuringly. “I called my last witness and the prosecution has rested its case. Now it’s time for the defense to start calling witnesses and presenting their evidence. I made a strong case, brought in credible witnesses. I kept the testimonies on track. There’s… I really think we’ve got the jury on our side. I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Milner is bringing up his first witness tomorrow. He’s calling a doctor, an old-school guy who’s done studies on rape victims. He’s probably going to try and debunk the theory our guy presented that orgasms occur regardless of consent. You are under absolutely no obligation to attend, I just wanted to keep you updated.”

“Oh,” Beca says softly. She stands there in silence, leaning against the kitchen counter, finally stopping her pacing. “I… There’s a… What do you man debunk the theory?”

“I’ve read up on this doctor, and I’ve been contesting his reliability, but the judge has deemed it relevant and considers this doctor is at least… the jury is going to hear him. He’s an old school doctor and he published a few papers in some fringe medical journals of obstetrics that claim victims of legitimate rape cannot experience arousal- can’t have multiple orgasms the way you did. Then he plans to bring in the defendants, and one old boyfriend of yours… Luke Smith? Does he mean anything to you?” Beca blanches.

“We… We dated my freshman year of college. He was my boss at my radio station and… It only lasted a month and a half, maybe? I don’t… I don’t know why… What’s he got to do with this?” she stammers.

“Was it an amicable breakup?” Beca bites her lower lip.

“No. He hates me. I actually had to quit my internship because he made it so miserable.” She pauses. “Um, I actually know why they may have called him. He and I… We had sex, you know… Like couples do, right? But, uh… He liked it more than I did. And he didn’t understand why I wasn’t…. Um, enjoying it? So I started, like, faking it. And he found out, so he got really mad.” She shifts, making sure Chloe isn’t close enough to hear her. She doesn’t want Chloe to hear about how badly she screwed up; she was eighteen and just trying to make the fighting stop. But as soon as he found out she was faking her orgasms, he flipped out. Chloe doesn’t need to hear how bad she is at relationships.

“Okay, okay thank you. I can understand why they’re calling him, then. And… Thank you for telling me. Now that I know, I can prepare my cross. I just wanted to keep you updated. If you plan to come to court, the proceedings will start up again at 9am on Wednesday morning,” Weller sighs.

“Mhmm,” Beca squeaks. They bid each other goodbye and Beca hangs up. She stays there in the kitchen for a few minutes, her left leg shaking. Tucker stands and whines, licking her fingers and she drops to the floor to pet him.

“Beca?” Chloe calls after a few minutes of silence. She walks in, grabs a glass of water and sits down next to Beca, offering it to her. They sit in silence together. “Just so you know, I heard what you said. Are we going back to watch the court proceedings when they start again?” Beca shrugs, blushing.

“You heard…?”

“Yes,” she replies softly, resting her head on Beca’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It happens. Sometimes you’re just… not as attracted to someone physically as you think. It’s happened to me, too. It’s okay.”

“To you, too?” Beca mumbles. Chloe nods. “Huh.”

“Yeah.” They sit silently, just breathing together and petting Tucker. “Not that I’m not happy here on the floor, but we have a nice couch just over there.” Beca chuckles as Chloe points into the living room. “And a TV. And it’s comfier over there if you are okay with us… shifting.”

“Let’s shift,” Beca laughs quietly. “And then maybe… We can go out for dinner. Instead of ordering in?” Chloe beams. They hadn’t gone out in a month since Beca was so easily set off by crowds. They’d had plenty of takeout and Chloe’s done a few homemade meals. Sometimes Chloe would go out with her friends and leave Beca, but they hadn’t really gone out anywhere since they met- since Beca’s attack.

“Really?” Beca nods as they move to the couch. When they sit, Beca repositions herself with her head on Chloe’s lap. She closes her eyes and lets Chloe runs her fingers through her hair.

“Wake me up when you get hungry,” she murmurs. Chloe nods silently, keeping the TV volume low to let Beca rest. After a while, she pulls up Beca’s song on her phone- she’d had Beca transfer it to her phone as soon as she’d listened to it- and plugs in her headphones. She lets Beca sleep, content to spend these few days relaxing before Beca decides to go back to court and all of its related stress.

 

Two days later and Beca is sitting in the courtroom, watching them start the court proceedings. They call out the docket number, the defendants file in and take their seats, everyone rises for the judge, and she calls the court to attention. As they call up the defense’s expert, Weller again contest the man’s credibility. But, the judge overrules her and she sits down to watch the court officer escort an older gentleman to the stand.

He stands tall, proud and cocky as he looks out at the courtroom. He’s an old man with hair as white as his pale, wrinkled skin. His blue eyes are sharp as he makes eye contact with each juror and he conducts himself with a certain arrogance as he loudly adjusts his sport coat and takes his seat.

“So, Doctor… Or should I call you Mr. Congressman? You were the congressman for California from 200 to 2008, correct?” Mr. Milner smiles.

“Oh, either one,” the man laughs. Beca clenches her fists and Chloe winces; Beca had forgotten she was holding Beca’s hand in hers. Immediately, she released but Chloe grabbed her again, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I practiced obstetrics for thirty years before I ran for Congress.”

“Ah, yes, and how many papers have you published in your medical career?”

“Twenty six,” he nods.

“Twenty six,” Mr. Milner repeats. “In various medical journals of obstetrics all over the country, yes?”

“Of course.”

“And many of your papers deal with rape, yes? Tell me about that,” he invites.

“Oh, sure thing. I wrote about my studies on rape victims, and how we can sort out the _legitimate_ rape accusations from the fraudulent ones.” He gives Beca a pointed look as he says ‘fraudulent’. “My studies have shown that in cases of legitimate rape, the body cannot achieve climax. The body is under far too much stress and sexual arousal cannot occur under stress. When sexual arousal does occur, it is clear that the body was not under the stress of a non-consensual encounter.”

“So, if a woman comes to your for an… examination after her rape, and she reports experiencing _three_ orgasms, what would you say?” Mr. Milner turns and leans on the witness stand, positioning himself so that he’s looking out at the courtroom, smirking a bit.

“I’d tell her that sometimes… We say no at first. But at some point during the experience, you change your mind. As soon as you realize this, you start to enjoy it. You are _enjoying_ the rougher sex, the rape. And that’s okay. But once you realize it, that changes everything and it becomes consensual. And if you want to lie to people, if you’re ashamed, that’s okay. Lie to your friends, family, whoever you need. But you can’t lie to me.” And maybe it’s the way he smiles and laughs at the end, like it’s all a big joke, or a discussion over the bar or the dinner table. He’s confident, and charming, and for a moment Beca wonders if he’s right. Was she just ashamed? Did she really like it?

“Thank you, doctor,” Mr. Milner nods and goes to sit down. Beca’s breathing is shallow and Chloe is stroking her hand, trying to keep her calm while Weller stands.

“So, doctor… When did you last publish?” Weller smiles, but there’s a bite to her words.

“Oh, well, uh… I don’t exactly remember,” he shrugs, unconcerned. “I’ve been busy working on new things, not dwelling on my past!”

“August 1987,” Weller supplies, handing him a piece of paper. She distributes copies to the judge and the jury. “Prosecution’s evidence number 65. The date of the last time Dr. Howards published in the National Journal of Obstetrics.” Dr. Howards holds up his hands in a shrug, still chuckling.

“The female anatomy hasn’t changed, sweetheart,” he tells her.

“It’s Ms. Weller or ADA Weller,” she corrects coolly. “And you’re right. The general anatomy hasn’t changed, but our technology has gotten better and we’re more able to fully understand our bodies and-”

“Objection, your honor, she’s testifying,” Milner interrupts, standing.

“Get to the point, _Ms._ Weller,” the judge sighs.

“Of course, your honor,” she smiles. “I’m going to hand you the prosecution’s exhibit 32, Dr. Howards. It’s a study published two months ago in the National Journal of Obstetrics written by Dr. Lynn Halloway, an obstetrician who also testified at this trial. Could you read the highlighted section for me?” She hands him a paper, still smiling sweetly.

He clears his throat and begins to read, “‘…the induction of arousal and orgasm does not indicate that the subjects consented to the stimulation. A perpetrator's defense simply built upon the fact that evidence of genital arousal or orgasm proves consent has no intrinsic validity and should be disregarded…Human sexual arousal occurs as a mental state and a physical state; in normal sexual arousal both occur simultaneously. However, it is possible to be mentally sexually aroused without showing any genital manifestations of arousal…Contrarily, it is possible to exhibit these genital manifestations of arousal but not feel mentally aroused. Indeed, it is even possible to feel disgusted by the genital manifestations of arousal if it is thought to be a highly inappropriate response to the inducing sexual stimuli [such as] getting an erection to the naked body of one's mother or sister or by a violent scenario.” Beca frowns in confusion, looking over at Chloe who just shrugs.

“Now, Dr. Howards… I’m no _doctor_ ,” she says. And the sarcasm, the gentle but scathing… reverse condescension is there, and much more prominent. “But could you maybe explain this to me in layman’s terms? Simple enough so that even a… a woman like _me_ could understand?”

“Of course, dear,” he says impatiently. Beca wonders if he doesn’t understand she’s being sardonic. “Most often, our bodies and our minds run together. When we are physically stimulated, we are mentally stimulated. This study claims that it is not always the case. Sometimes we are… mentally aroused but not physically or physically aroused, but not mentally.”

“So… Physical arousal is not conclusively linked to mental arousal? Or consent?” She turns with a comically confused expression on her face. One of the jurors smiles at her.

“According to this study, no.”

“And according to _countless_ other studies, all far more recent than yours. When did you last practice medicine, Dr. Howards?” He clenches his jaw before answering.

“1998.”

“18 years ago,” she nods. “18 years ago you stopped practicing medicine after a scandal with a young, female intern at your last facility, an OBGYN in Sacramento, right?” He doesn’t answer. “Oh, but you can’t answer that because of the binding non-disclosure agreement, right?”

“I… can’t comment on that,” he sighs.

“Okay, I’ll move on,” Weller says. And she drops the act now, more hostile and direct. “You conducted your last study in 1986. Isn’t it _possible_ that since technology has improved that the results you obtained were wrong?”

“Well, I… I suppose anything’s _possible_ ,” he scoffs. “But I am a respected man-”

“You were a respected scientist until recently. Current studies and papers directly reference yours and categorically disprove it. So I ask you again, considering recent discoveries and studies, do you think your assessment is wrong? Is it possible that arousal can occur during rape?” Her sucks in a breath before exhaling loudly, clearly annoyed.

“It’s _possible_ ,” he concedes.

“Mhmm, I’d say it’s more than just possible,” she says with a raised eyebrow.

“Objection!” Mr. Milner shouts.

“Withdrawn,” she smiles. But the jury is looking at each other warily, shifting in their seats. And Beca knows they won’t forget her commentary. She finally releases a breath as they escort out the doctor.

“The defense calls Mr. Edward Bridges.” And all the air goes out of Beca, like a deflated balloon. And she can’t find a way to breathe in anymore, not when he’s standing there in a suit, his hair slicked back. He looks like a real person, not some punk with a mohawk and a sneer as he rams his fingers into her. He makes eye contact with her as he gets onto the stand before he looks at the court officer. Beca closes her eyes and goes numb.

But that can’t stop the flashbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen up, nerds. I actually did some research on this, and the paragraph that Dr. Howards reads is from the following article which quotes an actual scientific journal's review of rape and orgasms. See link:  
> http://www.popsci.com/science/article/2013-05/science-arousal-during-rape
> 
> Also: PSA: I am starting my freshmen year of college this week so my life is about to get a little crazy while I adjust. It will probably take me a little longer to update and I'll have a more erratic schedule. I am still working on things, and I'll try to keep updating as regularly as possible but there's only so much I can do. Thanks for reading!


	25. Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Flashbacks ( as the title implies) also graphic-ish descriptions of non-con and assault

“State your name for the record, please,” the court officer says. Beca is frozen, watching this all happen. 

“Edward Munroe Bridges.” His voice is confident and sure. He puts his hand on the Bible- of course he’s a religious man, makes him more sympathetic to the jury, Beca figures- and he swears to tell the truth. But he’s going to get up there and tell everyone it was consensual. He’s going to sit there and claim she wanted it. But she was crying. How was that consensual? And just like it’s playing on a movie screen, she can see it all over again.

 

_ “Oh, you like this, baby?” Mohawk Man had laughed. Her pants had been discarded, her underwear pocketed by one of her attackers. She was lying bare, two men holding her down and one was sitting on her face, thrusting into her. She wanted to bite down, do something, do anything. She’s numb now, though. It’s gone on so long- hours, days, years, she doesn’t know- and she can’t bring herself to move. She wants to scream, tell them to stop and leave her alone, but one of them is inside her mouth and her speech is muffled. _

_ “Oh, yeah, I think she does,” another one laughs. And he high fives his friend like this is a game. _

_ “She’s so wet, man. Come feel,” Mohawk Man had said. He moved, let one of his cronies shove his hand inside of her. It was rough, and she screamed, crying. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t. _

_ “She likes it rough,” the man holding her hands laughs. Mohawk Man shoved his friend aside and she whimpered as it yanked her. He thrusts three of his fingers inside of her, pushing  and thrusting and twisting. She doesn’t want this. It hurts. But at the same time, it kind of feels… Her body starts shaking and her breath is coming quicker. _

_ “You want this, don’t you, you little slut? You like it hard, and dirty… On the street like a cheap whore. All of us at the same time, oh man, it makes you dripping wet. So I’m gonna fuck you right here where everyone can see,” he hisses. And she’s crying and it hurts and she doesn’t. Want. this. But her body does. Her body reacts and all she can feel, not the arousal, not the orgasm, just betrayal. And shame. _

 

Beca comes to as Eddie is describing how they allegedly met. Chloe is gripping her hand, whispering to her but Beca just waves her away, assuring Chloe she’s fine. She pets Tucker with her free hand to make him stop pulling on his leash. She knows he’s just trying to get her away from what’s causing her panic to rise. Tucker is trying to take her somewhere so he can help her calm down, but she needs to hear this. She needs to know what he is saying.

“So, you went to the pride festivities?” Mr. Milner asks.

“Of course,” Eddie laughs. “I mean, love is love. I support that. Plus, it’s one hell of a party.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Milner smiles at the jury. “And while you were at this parade, this party, you met the… alleged victim?” Beca narrows her eyes and grips Chloe’s hand tighter.

“I did.”

“Tell me about that.” Beca thinks back to pride, back to that morning, that afternoon.

 

_ “Beca, just wear something colorful! I can draw a rainbow on each cheek if you want,” Jesse had laughed through her bedroom door. She just rolled her eyes, trying to find enough color in her closet. _

_ “You are not drawing a rainbow on my cheek. I’m not gay, I’m an ally,” she fired back. Pulling out her blue tanktop and red jacket, she smiled triumphantly. _

 

_ She didn’t like how crowded it was. Wherever she walked, she bumped into people. She would mumble an apology and try to move with little success. Amy and Jesse were bounding ahead of her and she kept getting lost in the crowd. At one point, she grabbed onto Jesse’s wrist to try and keep up with them.  _

_ It was madness. At one point when she’s trying to make her way to the street to see what’s going on, someone grabs onto her wrist. Assuming it was Jesse, she felt someone hug her from behind, lean in close to her ear. She could smell cheap liquor, and knew that it wasn’t Jesse. She elbowed the person in the stomach and moved on, figuring it was just some drunkard looking for someone else. Then she made her way up towards the front of the parade. Leaning against the police barriers, she could see the religious protesters across the street. Then a red headed stranger had kissed her and Beca completely forgot about the person who grabbed her. _

 

“So, you met her in the crowd at pride? And what did you discuss together at this time?” Milner asks, bringing Beca back. Discuss? When did she see him? What is he talking about?

“Yeah, she was walking in the crowd and bumped into me. She said I looked like I knew how to have a good time, so I asked her what she meant. Then she asked me if I was interested in group sex, no strings attached. But it was loud so she told me to meet her somewhere later to discuss details. We met in a back alley behind a bar,” he explains. 

“So, to be clear, she  _ asked you _ to have public, rough sex with multiple partners?” Milner repeats.

“Yeah, basically. She wanted it. I guess when someone came out and saw us, she panicked and lied.”

“Objection, your honor!” Weller calls, standing.

“Sustained. Jury will disregard,” the judge decrees. “Mr. Milner, instruct your client to only comment on things he personally saw, heard or experienced. Anything else is outside his purview.”

“Of course, judge,” Milner replies. “So, Mr Bridges, let’s talk about this alleged stalking incident a week after this alleged assault. What were you doing out in that specific park? When there was a city wide manhunt for you, why were you out in a park?”

“I like to… I like the trails out there. It’s peaceful and I was camping out there to clear my head. I didn’t even know about the manhunt,” he laughs.

“And the knife? The police took a knife when they arrested you, correct? Why did you have that?”

“It’s a hunting knife. I take it for safety when I go camping. I need to be able to cut ropes, and cut up food and stuff… When I heard them walking by, I was still holding it. That’s all.”

“And their allegations that you threatened to ‘make them see reason’ and kill her dog? What happened there?” Beca shakes and holds Tucker tighter to her. That had been a terrifying moment for her, thinking he was going to hurt them- Chloe and Tucker.

“Misunderstanding. I just wanted to talk because her friend was accusing me of rape and I didn’t understand that. And as for her dog… Well, that mutt was going rabid! He was freaking out and trying to bite me. I told them to keep it away from me,” he laughs. “So I may have said something stupid about killing it, but it was a joke! An exaggeration! You’ve never said something about wanting to kill someone when you were mad?” He turns to look at the jury as he says this and a few shift uncomfortably.

“So, all of this was just one big misunderstanding? A false accusation that turned bad and ruined your life?” Milner asks incredulously.

“It...Yeah. I mean, one false accusation ruins the claims of thousands of actual rape victims. And it has ruined my reputation. I can never get a job again. It’s… I’m the real victim in all this,” he says, holding out his hands helplessly. Beca feels Chloe’s hand tighten around hers and Beca feels sick.  _ He’s _ the victim? After everything he and his friends did to her and  _ he _ is the victim. Beca wants to throw up.

 

_ “Dude, she is air-tight!” one of them laughs. Beca is crying, screaming for air but they are inside of her. Mohawk Man has directed his friends to fill her up, laughing as she struggled. They are pulling and thrusting in all different directions. She wants to bite down, fight back, do anything but it is taking all of her energy not to black out from lack of air. It hurts her, everything hurts. Their hands are gripping her too tight and her body is being used in ways it shouldn’t. But it is still responding. _

_ “Air-tight and dripping wet,” another crows. Mohawk Man had laughed, shoving him aside to jam his fingers inside of her to feel for himself. When he does, he withdraws her fingers and she groans involuntarily. Laughing, he unzips his pants and puts himself inside of her. The feelings, the stimulation, it’s all too much. It hurts. But her body responds again. _

_ “And coming like a freight train,” Mohawk Man had jeered, thrusting into her. She came with a whimper, muffled by the man in her mouth. He finally pulls out when she starts coughing, unable to keep breathing. They’re all high fiving and she is struggling to breathe, the taste of a man’s semen on her lips. They can’t even give her a moment before they’re pawing at her again, yanking her around to use her as they please. _

_ “Please, stop. Please, please, don’t!” Beca whimpered. They just laugh. Mohawk Man slaps her. _

_ “Shut up, bitch.” And he hits her again. So she does. _

 

“Your witness,” Milner smiles. Beca is trembling as ADA Weller stands. Chloe is shaking her shoulders and Tucker is standing on her lap, pawing at her. But she can’t leave now, she can’t let him see her weak.

“So,  _ you’re _ the victim in all of this?” ADA Weller asks, stalking forward slowly. Eddie smiles slightly with a small shrug. “ _ You’re _ the one who’s suffering here? Is your good name being… falsely slandered? Are you being called a whore or a liar?”

“Objection, your honor! Argumentative and leading!” One of Milner’s partners stands.

“Sustained. Jury will disregard.”

“I’ll move on,” Weller nods. “You claim that you met the victim at Pride and she asked you to meet her in an alley?”

“Yeah, behind that club… Ego. She met us back there to plan it.” He tries to peer around Weller and look at Beca, but Weller keeps moving to keep Beca out of his eyeline.

“How tall are you?” she asks suddenly.

“5’10,” why?”

“How much do you weigh?”

“185, I think? What’s the point? Judge, objection,” he says, turning.

“You can’t do that,” Weller laughs.

“She’s right,” the judge smiles down at him condescendingly. “You can’t make objections. Only the attorneys can.”

“Objection, your honor. I don’t see a point in this line of questioning,” Milner sighs, standing. Eddie raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘see? I was right.’

“If you let me continue, I’ll get to my point,” Weller says tersely.

“Make it quickly,” the judge urges. She nods.

“So you’re a tall, strong man. How tall is the victim, Miss Mitchell? About how much do you think she weighs?” Beca squirms in her seat and leans into Chloe. 

“Um, five feet? Maybe 5’1” and, like… 110 pounds if that? I don’t like to… Comment on a woman’s weight,” he smirks. Beca has to struggle to stay in the moment.

_ “She’s got tits, man. Feel these,” Mohawk Man had laughed. “You usually don’t see tits like this on a scrawny little thing like this.” He throws his head back laughing and slaps her ass. _

But Beca needs to stay in the moment. She needs to hear his words  _ now _ , not in the past. She takes a deep breath, leaning into Chloe. Breathing deeply, Beca focuses on her scent. Chloe smells like citrus and lavender and something so simply…  _ Chloe _ . It helps ground her in the moment.

“Do you honestly believe a woman would put her life in danger like that?” Weller asks and Beca feels she may have missed to lead up to that particular point.

“I’m not a danger, Ms. Weller,” Eddie laughs. Beca would like to disagree.

“Debatable,” Chloe snorts under her breath.

“And besides, people do crazy things for sex,” Eddie continues. 

“What about rapists? Would you say that they do ‘crazy things for sex?’” Weller challenges.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” he replies.

“Okay, let’s move on. You claim she asked for this. You claim she talked to you at pride. Where is the evidence? What indication, besides your word, do we have to prove that this actually happened? And, if this did happen as you say it did, why would three of your friends- consensual partners, if what you’re saying is true- plead guilty? Why would they plead guilty if they knew she consented?”

“You intimidated them! They pled guilty because they didn’t want to end up in jail for the rest of their lives! I’m telling the truth!” he shouts angrily.

“Mr. Bridges, you will calm down or I will hold you in contempt,” the judge warns. He apologizes but still glares at ADA Weller. Beca is clenching her jaw and has to close her eyes for a minute.

“So, the only proof you have is your word and these accusations of intimidation?” Weller scoffs.

“No! I’ve got… Look, I had someone send me a picture. Here’s us talking at pride!” And he pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture. From a distance, Beca can see the bright colors that would indicate the parade. Some of the jurors are mumbling and Beca can’t breathe. What if they believe him? What if they let him off? He knows where she lives- where she  _ and Chloe _ live.

“Objection! This is a completely inappropriate way to introduce evidence! And we haven’t had a chance to authenticate this picture or examine it!” Weller shouts, trying to stand in front of Eddie as he shoves his phone towards the jurors. The court officer comes over and plucks the phone from his hands to his protests.

“Counselor, I am appalled you would let your client do this,” the judge says gravely.

“I had no knowledge of this photo’s existence, your honor,” Milner says earnestly. “If I did, I would have entered it into my evidence.”

“Prosecution requests a recess for a few days to give us time to authenticate this image,” Weller protests.

“Two business days,” the judge grants. “We recess until Friday. At which time, cross of the defendant will resume. Court is adjourned. Bring in the next case.” As the judge bangs his gavel, Beca collapses into Chloe’s lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is still going pretty great! Drama is starting to develop on my floor, though. So, I'm still working on these things, but there's only five more chapters of this left, and they're all mostly written! Enjoy, nerds!


	26. It's All About Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Appearances can be deceiving...

“What is going on?” Beca groans, head in her hands. ADA Weller had pulled her and Chloe into a back room as soon as court had been dismissed. Beca didn’t understand what Eddie was talking about, why he claimed he had met Beca. What kind of proof could be held on that phone? “Why is this happening?”

“This picture… It’s just a trick of the camera angle,” Chloe argues. The phone was in a plastic evidence bag but she was staring at the picture on it, squinting and pursing her lips. “Like when people take pictures like they’re pushing the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

“Well, yes, but unless we can prove that, it is a very… convincing picture. They can use it to argue that… contact was made, I guess?” Weller sighs unhappily. Beca takes the phone from Chloe to inspect the picture.

It’s blurry, like someone had just zoomed in on another picture and taken a screenshot. There was a crowd and Beca was walking through it. She could see the back of Fat Amy’s  head in the top corner, like Beca was following her. Beca was center frame, turning slightly and mouth open as if to say something to Eddie, who was right behind her, grinning down at her. Her hand was up like it was on his chest.

“This… I don’t even remember this,” Beca mumbles, one hand on her mouth.

“You were probably just moving through the crowd and someone snapped a picture that makes it all look different,” Weller sighs. “Now we need to find a picture that shows a different angle, or something.”

“How do we do that?” Chloe asks. Beca drops the phone on the couch cushion in disgust and Chloe hands it to Weller.

“We ask the public. Every photo has a time, date and location imprinted into its coding. Our techs can get that from the photo file, then we ask anyone who was at that location at that time taking pictures to send them in. We go through everything and see if we can find something to contradict what this picture shows. It’s gonna take some time, so I have to get this to my tech guy. I’ll… I’ll be in touch. But, Beca, you should prepare yourself. The defense may ask to reexamine you as a witness in response.”

“What? Why? Can they do that?” Beca asks nervously. Tuck noses at her hand.

“They can ask to recall a witness if new evidence is presented that directly contradicts their previous testimony. It’s only a possibility,” Weller sighs. “Not a guarantee. So… Just, prepare yourself, okay? I have to go.” Beca nods as Weller leaves. They sit in silence for a moment.

“Beca, let’s… Let’s go for a walk, take Tuck to the park?” Chloe suggests hesitantly. Tucker is sniffing Beca, pulling on her hand.

“I’m fine,” Beca sniffles, standing. She shakes her hair back and forces a tight smile towards Chloe. “I’m fine. But yeah, we can take him out for a walk. He could use the exercise.” She stands, smiling as she walks out. They exit the back of the courtroom where they can slip into Chloe’s car undetected as they drive to the nearest park. Beca smiles, chats animatedly about what they can do in the two days before court restarts and laughs when Chloe sings along to the radio. She seems perfectly fine, but Chloe has a feeling that Beca is like that picture from court: from the wrong angles, it seems fine, but up close it’s nothing more than a lie.

 

The press release comes on while the girls are eating dinner. Chloe made tacos and they were sitting cross-legged on the floor watching some stupid reality show Chloe loved. Suddenly, the program was interrupted with the police begging for help from the community and for pictures from pride. Beca looked down pointedly, pushing her food around her plate with one finger. Peering at her, Chloe purses her lips.

“It’ll be okay. Everyone takes pictures at pride. I’m sure they’ll find one that can help,” Chloe whispers, putting a hand on Beca’s shoulder. Beca startles and pulls away.

“I’m fine. Let’s… You keep watching this. I’m gonna go work on a new mix,” she sighs. Heaving herself off the floor, she pads on socked feet into the bedroom, laptop and headphones tucked under her arm. Tucker trots behind her dutifully but she slams the bedroom door in his face. He whines, yapping and scratching at the door and Beca momentarily opens it, letting him in before she closes the door again.

“Just another wednesday night,” Chloe sighs as she pulls out her phone. Maybe Aubrey is free to hang out.

 

A few hours later, Chloe was coming back into the apartment after spending some time hanging out in Stacie and Aubrey’s apartment. She had missed their girl’s night ins, nights when they watched trashy TV or stupid movies with hot actors and actresses, got too drunk on cheap wine, ate junk food like there was no tomorrow, and gossiped about their lives. Chloe also missed going out to clubs and bringing home men, but that wasn’t an option since she was living on Beca’s couch ever since a spring had popped out of the mattress and neither girl had the spare cash to find a new one.

“Becs, you awake? It’s me, I’m home,” Chloe calls out. No reply. Shrugging, she goes into the bathroom to change into her pajamas. As she came back out, she considered sleeping on the small, lumpy, hard living room couch while groaning about the cricks in her neck she would have when she woke up. Maybe… she could get into Beca’s bed. She did that sometimes when Beca was having a nightmare, or if they fell asleep while watching Netflix on Beca’s bed.

She crept into her bedroom quietly. Beca was tangled up in her sheets, sweat sticking her hair to her forehead. Her cheeks were red and her eyebrows were knitted together. Chloe frowned, stopping to pet Tucker at the end of the bed. As she crawled into bed, careful to move around Beca, she settled onto the edge of the bed. There was only an inch of space between Chloe and Beca since Beca was lying spread eagle. In sleep, Beca shifted and her hand brushed against Chloe’s arm. She whimpered and turned over in bed.

“Just me, sorry,” Chloe exhales carefully. She was already sweating with Beca’s body heat so close to her. She doesn’t understand why Beca refused to get a new air conditioner when her last one broke.

Beca just keeps on crying out. The sounds are muffled in the pillow as Beca turns her head away from Chloe. Her grip on the sheets tightens and she pulls them taut against her body. She’s kicking, her hips bucking up as she cries out again.

“No,” she whines. Chloe wants to reach out and wake her up, but is terrified her touch might scare Beca more than it would help.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers urgently. Beca just writhes.

“Ungh,” Beca moans. Her hips buck again.

“Beca, wake up. Come on, Becs,” Chloe whispers. Her head hurts. She’s drunk, and she doesn’t want to be awake anymore, but she can’t stand the way Beca looks right now, so she needs Beca to wake up. “Wake up, it’s just a dream, Beca. Beca!”

“Chloe,” Beca sighs. “Make it stop. Chloe, help,” she whines continuously. Chloe pauses, wondering if she’s starting to wake up. But Beca’s eyes are still closed and she’s still kicking Chloe’s shins as she moves.

“Becs, wake  _ up _ ,” Chloe whispers, grabbing Beca’s shoulder and shaking her lightly. Beca startles violently, jerking awake with a gasp.

“Chlo-” she cries out. Her eyes open and dart around the room reflexively. Tuck yelps.

“You’re fine, Beca,” Chloe whispers. Beca sits up, clutching the sheets to her middle. “It was just a dream. I’m a little drunk. You mind if I sleep it off in here with you? That couch…  _ sucks _ ,” she sighs, lying back down. Beca stands, shifting uncomfortably.

“Mhmm,” she squeaks. “Yeah, let me just… I’m gonna go take a shower. It’s hot. Um, get comfy. I’ll be back soon,” she whispers quickly before running off. Chloe sighs and lies back. She knew she should probably go help Beca since she seemed to be on the edge of a panic attack after a nightmare, but she was  _ so _ drunk and  _ so _ tired. So she laid back. Tucker had followed her into the bathroom, after all. He could help her while she closed her eyes.

 

_ What the fuck is wrong with me? _ Beca wondered. She was sitting with her feet up, knees drawn to her chest on top of the toilet seat. One hand was clamped over her mouth, the other running frantically through her hair as she replayed her dream. Nightmare. Whatever.

It wasn’t clear, and it wasn’t linear. Dreams never really are, at least not for Beca. And every moment she was awake, the dream became fuzzier. But certain flashes kept playing on a loop. She was being held down, wrists pinned above her head, hips held down by the weight of another person straddling her. She was breathing hard, panting. There was a pressure building between her legs and she was wriggling to try and relieve it.

And then, the fog cleared for a moment and she realized it was Chloe above her. She begged Chloe to make this all stop. She didn’t mean let her wrists go. No, Beca was begging Chloe to touch her, do anything to release the pressure, make it feel better. She just needed a moment’s relief and with her hands pinned, she couldn’t do anything.

But before anything could happen to help her, Beca was being shaken awake by Chloe- the real Chloe. She was far too close and barely covered. Sinfully toned, deliciously pale legs were barely covered by turquoise short-shorts and a white tank top was the only thing between Chloe’s boobs and Beca’s eyes. And all that pressure, that  _ arousal _ from Beca’s dream was back in full force, and made worse because this was reality.

Making some ridiculous excuse, she ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind Tucker, knowing he would make a fuss. As of right now, he was just sitting on the floor next to her, waiting for her cue. The only thing that could make this better was if Beca took care of it herself but she  _ couldn’t _ . First of all, she could  _ not _ do that with Tucker staring at her like that. That would just be awkward for them both. 

And more importantly: how was Beca supposed to take care of business if the only thing on her mind was Chloe? Chloe’s big, wild red curls. Eyes so blue and pure, so radiant and ever changing that they would rival the oceans, a color that could be captured by no portrait. A smile so sweet it gave dentists toothaches. Delicate freckles that Beca wanted to run her hands over. Firm muscles and a set of abs to match. Beca wanted Chloe, and it wasn’t fair for her to touch herself thinking about the redhead when she was drunk and sleeping in the next room. It wasn’t right.

But still, Beca wouldn’t-  _ couldn’t- _ go to bed without doing something about this. So, maybe a cold shower would help. Leaving Tucker on the floor, she jumped into the shower without regard for the time. By the time she got out, she was frozen like a popsicle, but she felt refreshed and relaxed enough to go back and lie next to Chloe until she fell back into sleep.

 

“You alright, Becs?” Chloe asks the next afternoon. Chloe had slept away most of the morning to combat her hangover while Beca worked on her music and talked to ADA Weller and the detectives about their progress finding new evidence. Once both girls were awake, Beca had clammed up, unable to look Chloe in the eye.

“Fine,” Beca replied shortly.

“You sure?” Chloe quirks an eyebrow. She figures Beca is just keyed up about court and the nightmare she seemed to be having last night.

“Positive,” Beca affirms, nodding. Chloe shrugs.

“It’s gonna be another hot day, today. We should go somewhere with air conditioning. Maybe a department store to buy an air conditioner for the bedroom?” Chloe jokes. Beca smiles weakly.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” She shoots Choe a tight smile and puts her headphones on. Chloe thinks she looks tense, hunched over her laptop and her eyebrows screwed up in concentration, tongue poking out of her mouth. It’s expected that Beca would be tense, she decides, and goes back to her book.


	27. Getting Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point, we all have to admit that we really need help.

Beca didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She went to therapy with Kate, and they seemed to be making progress. But still, almost every night, Beca woke up in a cold sweat, screaming from nightmares. She’d be going about her normal day when suddenly, something- a smell, a sound, a building, a person passing by on the street, or nothing at all- would trigger her and she’d be taking deep breaths, clenching her fists and chewing the inside of her cheeks in an attempt to keep calm. She had taken to pinching the skin on her wrists until it was purple and bleeding just to keep herself centered and grounded.

Chloe had gone in to speak to Kate a few times, trying to figure out how to help Beca, and be a better support system for her. And Beca liked that. She appreciated Chloe trying, but Kate had been pushing this ridiculous group therapy thing for Beca to help her. She says she can work through her issues with other people who understand better. As soon as Chloe heard this, she started pushing Beca to do it, too. She didn’t want to, but when could she ever say no to Chloe asking her for anything? 

So now, here she was in a large… living room style office in Kate’s building. There were three couches set up in a semicircle, and plush chairs. Kate and another therapist were sitting in office chairs at the head of the circle. There were nine other girls sitting in the chairs, but Beca wasn’t looking at any of them. She couldn’t. As soon as she had walked in, a tall girl with blonde hair had immediately looked at her and said, “you’re that girl from the news! Oh my God!” Beca had just blushed, put her head down and picked the last of the comfy solo chairs right next to Kate, curling her legs up. 

“Should we get started?” Kate asks. The other girls all nod their assent.

“Did Ryan ever confirm with you?” The older therapist next to Kate whispered it, but Beca was hypervigilant, focused completely on them in an attempt to block out everything else.

“He wanted to try and find an all male support group. I agree; men might understand his experience better,” Kate explains quietly. “Alright, so it looks like we have everyone we are expecting. I’m Dr. Kate Wilder, but you can all call me Kate. This is Dr. Lynn Bennett. Why don’t we… go around and introduce ourselves,” she smiles to the group. The girl sitting closest to her, a young Latina-looking girl probably no more than 20, shifts in her seat and raises her eyebrows.

“Like what? Like, our names? Our stories?” she asks, her voice a bit harsh. Beca shifts to get a better look at her, pay more attention.

“Whatever you feel comfortable sharing,” Lynn provides. The girl shrugs, shakes her hair off her shoulders. Beca takes a moment to admire the firm line of her jaw, the way her dark brown eyes scan the room as she inhales deeply.

“I’m Diana, but my friends call me Dee. I’m 19, and I’m a sophomore, studying pre-med at UCLA. I… went on a date with a classmate and we went back to his place. He thought that since he bought me dinner, I owed him sex. I didn’t want it, but he’s twice my size, so, um…” Her voice wobbles, but Diana didn’t stop. She just took a breath and focused on Kate and Lynn. “He took it. He raped me, and I’ve been seeing Lynn to try and get past this anger, but… yeah. I’m angry. I’m  _ pissed _ at the bastard. He thinks… He thinks that’s okay? What the fuck is wrong with him?” she huffs angrily. “Whatever, someone else go. We can talk about my anger issues later. Who’re you?” She gestures with her chin at the girl next to them. 

And so it goes. The women go around in the circle, introducing themselves with their names, ages, professions, some include children or spouses, and detail the horrible experiences they’re dealing with. Some were assaulted by loved ones- one woman by her spouse- or friends. One was attacked by a stranger, one by her boyfriend. One older woman was here dealing with a trauma from ten years ago. When it came to Beca’s turn, she scratched Tuck’s ears.

“So, uh… I don’t really know what to say. I feel like… some of you have seen the news and know a lot about me and my story. Um, I’m… Beca. I’m 25, and I’m currently unemployed but I want to produce music. I had a job as a DJ at a radio station and was working my way up, but… PTSD from my attack made it hard to… do a lot of normal things. I can’t go to work. I can’t… I don’t leave my house sometimes. I don’t… date anymore. Tucker helps. I went to volunteer at an animal shelter and fell in love with him. I adopted him and registered him as a therapy dog. So, uh… That’s me.” Beca puffs out her cheeks and exhales slowly, feeling the blush spreading down her chest. “So, my… my attack, now? Um… Like I said, it’s in the news. I was walking home from Pride- I’m not… gay, just went with work- and I was two blocks from home when some guys stopped me. There were six of them, and they were just catcalling me, then it turned into… A gang rape. A good samaritan heard me crying and called 911 and came outside, and uh… She’s my best friend, now. And… we’re in the middle of the trial right now. It’s messy, but, uh… I’m alive, so...” She trails off, laughing awkwardly and exhaling.

“That… sucks, girl,” Diana sighs heavily. Beca nods, pressing her lips tightly together. “It makes me feel like my attack was nothing.”

“It’s not a competition,” Kate says quickly. “We all have different traumas and experiences, and react to it all differently. Your experiences are just as valid as hers.”

“Right, now, I know,” Diana scoffs.  She nods at Beca from across the circle, smiling.

“But, if it  _ was _ , she’s saying I would win,” Beca smiles. Diana chuckles, and the group moves on to a different subject, something more productive for a therapy session, like their stages of grief. Beca has decided she is in denial.

 

“So, Beca, I’m glad you came this afternoon,” Kate said, pulling Beca aside once the official session had ended. “I really think it can help you to hear about other people’s experiences.” Beca nods politely.

“Maybe. I don’t know, Kate. I’m not really a ‘group therapy’ type,” Beca winces.

“There is no one type,” Kate reminds her.

“I know, I know. But still.” Beca sighs. “I’ll give it a try, I guess.”

“That’s all I want. If it doesn’t work, we move on and try something else.” She smiles at Beca, then. “How’s the trial going?” Beca groans. “Ooh, that bad?”

“It’s just… The defense found this picture and from the angle, it looks like I’m  _ talking _ to my… attacker. But it’s like, the angle. So the prosecution is looking for a picture to counter their point, and authenticating their own image. So we’re on recess until tomorrow.”

“Are you planning to go to court? I know it’s been very taxing for you to go and watch when you can’t say anything about their accusations.” Beca bites her lip, chewing on her answer.

“I want to show the jury that I’m not ashamed, that I’m not lying or avoiding. They are in the wrong, and they are lying, and they need to be punished.” She tries to project some of Diana’s fire into her words, but Beca is just sad, and afraid.

“Whatever you feel is best, but you need to consider your mental health before you consider what the jury may or may not think about your absence. You need to come first.”

“I need this trial to be over. I need closure. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to tell me? This trial will give me closure. I can’t get that closure if I’m not there,” Beca argues.

“I’m not sure closure is even possible in such a deep trauma. It won’t end when the trial does. The nightmares won’t magically stop. You PTSD won’t go away,” Kate continues. “If you want to get better, get past this, you need to think about your mental health. If it gets too  hard, it’s okay to skip a few days. However many you need.”

“Okay, okay,” Beca huffs.She shakes out her hands, feeling particularly exposed after that group therapy session. Since everyone was following her story in the news, all of the women kept relating back to Beca and she had ended up sharing a lot more than she had intended. “I have to go. I’ll see you for my appointment on Tuesday?”

“Yes, of course,” Kate smiled, recognizing Beca’s frustration. “I’ll see you then. Have a nice weekend.”

“You too,” Beca smiled tightly. She pulled on Tuck’s leash and hurried outside, into the sweltering heat and into Jesse’s waiting car.

“Be-caw!” he crows. “Glad you let me pick you up. Been awhile since I saw you.”

“I know,” Beca winces apologetically. It was just so hard for her to be the Beca Mitchell that Jesse and Fat Amy had known before the attack. She wasn’t that girl anymore. “I’ve just… Got a lot going on.”

“No, totally, I get it. Believe me. Maybe I could just come by and have… a cup of coffee sometime? Just so I know you’re doing okay? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything,” he says as he flawlessly merges into the downtown LA traffic.

“Like you did when you broke into my house?” she teases.

“Hey, I apologized for freaking you out,” he whines. Shaking her head, Beca laughs to show he’s joking.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can do something like that. Maybe… Go for a walk some afternoon,” Beca muses, changing the subject.

“I could come to court tomorrow,” he suggests. Beca stiffens. “I mean, Chloe’s been going with you, and I could help, too. We’ve been friends for a while, Beca. I could maybe help.” She knows he’s hurt, knows he’s been left out in favor of Chloe, and sometimes Aubrey and Stacie, lately. But Beca can’t really worry about his feelings in addition to her own right now.

“I know, Jess. I said we can make plans. Can we please ju-just not talk right now?”

“Fine,” Jesse agrees. She closes her eyes and leans her forehead against the cool glass of the window, but she can hear him sighing. Beca chooses to ignore it and focus on her own breathing instead.

 

“Hullo?” Beca croaks. It’s only ten at night, but she had fallen asleep while listening to her newest song, another she’d made. She wanted to make sure it was perfect before she showed it to Chloe, and had been listening to it on repeat for over an hour to find any and all imperfections. But she had fallen asleep while listening, her headphones slipping off her ears and onto her neck. “Who’s this?” she asks sleepily.

“Sorry to wake you, Beca. It’s Cindy- Cindy Weller,” she answers. Beca sits up, wiping the drool off her cheek and rubbing her eye.

“Ms. Weller, hi.” Beca clears her throat. Chloe wanders in, an eyebrow raised. “What’s- um, it’s a little later than you usually call. Did something happen?” She shuts her laptop and stands, shaking some feeling back into her sleepy legs.

“Nothing bad. We’ve been searching through thousands of pictures non-stop for the past two days, and we’ve finally found some usable images. And someone caught the moment on snapchat, too.” Beca can hear the smile in Weller’s voice.

“Th-that’s amazing. H-how? So, y-you can-”

“We can prove that the picture he showed it just an angle manipulation. It was… A gift from God that this person took that perfect video that showed what happened, and managed to save it. And we have two pictures. With this evidence… Beca we might be able to get them to plead out and end the trial.” Beca pauses.

“Would you… You wouldn’t, like, reduce their sentences or anything?” Beca chews her lip nervously, and Chloe is growing visibly frustrated with her lack of information.

“No. But, if I can get them to take a deal, I will in order to spare you the continued humiliation of a public, messy trial, you understand?” Beca nods wordlessly, even though Weller can’t see it. “Beca, I don’t want to let them get away with this. I just wanted to keep you abreast of the situation. I’m going to meet with the defense tomorrow morning before court to present the new evidence to them. If I can, I’m going to try and get them to change their pleas.”

“O-okay,” Beca stammers. This is all progressing so quickly. How can this just be… almost over? What does she do if this is it? If it ends tomorrow? Is she just… supposed to move on? Can she even do that?

“I know things have been moving quickly these past few weeks. But this, this new evidence? It’s a good thing. I have to go. Will I see you tomorrow at the courthouse?”

“Um, yeah,” Beca murmurs, her mouth suddenly dry. ADA Weller bids her goodbye and Beca stands still, putting her phone down on the couch.

“Well?” Chloe asks. “Who was that? Was it ADA Weller? What’s going on with the case?” Beca doesn’t move, just stares at the ground in front of Chloe.

“She said… They found evidence that disproved Eddie’s claim. She thinks she can get them to plead out. It… This trial could be over by tomorrow,” she says softly. Beca still doesn’t know what to think about all this.

“That’s- Beca, isn’t that a good thing?” Chloe asks, a little confused.

“Ye- um, yes. I just… It’s weird. I need to… I need to sleep. You coming?” Beca moves toward the bedroom and Chloe follows. When she curls into a ball on the bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes, Chloe just curls up around her, holding her until they both fall asleep.


	28. A Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first fact of making deals: no party is ever completely satisfied.

Beca didn’t know what to do with herself. She had decided to go to the courthouse but the judge called an emergency recess while the defendants were negotiating a plea. Beca didn't want to leave, partially because she didn't want to miss anything, And partially because the steps to the courthouse were flooded with reporters and press, waiting to hear about the verdict. So really, Beca was stuck. Chloe was there too, holding Beca's hand and keeping Beca from throwing something. 

“What are they discussing? Why is it taking so long?” Beca hisses nervously. Chloe pulls her thumb out of her mouth before Beca bites the nail down to the skin. 

“She's doing her job. I imagine the bastards are trying to argue for a better deal. Just, Beca let's go get coffee okay? We don't know how long this will take,” Chloe whispers. 

“I can't leave. I won't miss this. And I can't deal with those vultures out front.” Beca groans and stands, pacing the floor in front of Chloe with Tucker. 

“There's a coffee shop downstairs,” Chloe tells her. Beca runs her tongue over her teeth, considering. 

“Fine.”

 

“Hey,” a voice calls. Beca looks up from her phone. After sitting for a while drinking coffee and eating a belated breakfast, Chloe had run to the bathroom and check on the status of the plea talks. Beca’s breakfast sat untouched, her coffee cold. She didn’t need the caffeine, and her stomach was too unsettled to eat. “You waiting to testify?” Beca turns to the voice. 

The speaker is a young man, all dark hair and big brown eyes. If Beca saw him on the street, she’d peg him as a hipster without a doubt. He wore big, thick rimmed glasses and a fedora perched artfully on his head. He’d been playing on his phones and Beca hadn’t paid attention to him until now.

“Uh, no,” she responds, looking back down at her own phone. She’d figured that was enough for him to realize that she wasn’t interested in small talk. Apparently it wasn’t.

“Oh yeah? What’re you waiting for? A relative or someone testifying? Or maybe on trial?” he guesses.

“Nope.” She sips her coffee just for something to do with her mouth.

“A woman of mystery, eh? C’mon. Give me a chance, talk to me,” he persists. Beca rolls her eyes.

“Leave me alone, dude,” she snorts, trying to put on a defensive, strong front. But her heart was racing, her skin was tingling and her muscles were tensed, ready to fight. Tucker responded under the table, growling lightly.

“Yo, chill, girl,” the man laughs. “Hey, you remind me of someone. Do I know you?”

“If I tell you why I’m waiting here, will you leave?” Beca mutters through gritted teeth.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he laughs. “But, yeah. I guess.”

“I’m waiting while they negotiate a plea deal,” she sighs.

“What verdict are you hoping for?” he asks. She narrows her eyes and clenches a fist.

“I hope they rot in prison like the bastards they are. Now get the hell out of my face!” Chloe returns just then, running over to the table.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” she asks, standing in front of Beca protectively.

“Nothing. Just wanted a chat. Nice talking to you, Miss Mitchell,” he grins, tipping his hat. Beca is frozen as he walks away.

“How does he know my name? Chloe, Chloe, how does he know my name.  _ Chloe!” _ Beca hisses frantically. 

“Beca, Beca, breathe,” Chloe whispers. “Breathe, okay?”

“How does he know my name? I never told him my name. Who is he?” she pants. Beca is aware she’s heading for a panic attack, but she can’t stop it right now because  _ how did that guy know her name? _

“Beca, sweetie, you’ve been in the news so much. And, you didn’t know? That’s Donald Faison. He’s an online reporter,” Chloe shushes gently. She leads Beca up out of her seat and out of the cafe, trying to find somewhere private for them to go. 

“He’s a what?” Beca wheezes. She feels like she can’t draw a full breath, her hands are clawing at her chest. It’s too hot. It’s too much.

“A reporter. That doesn’t matter. Look, here’s a little lounge. Let’s sit you down, okay?” Chloe led her to a couch in a dimly lit room. Beca wasn’t sure why it was here, but she also wasn’t sure why she couldn’t breathe, either. As soon as she sat down, Chloe went to close the door and Tucker put his head on Beca’s knee. She patted him on the head and bent over double, trying to focus on her breathing exercises.

“Tell me what you need,” Chloe whispers. She sits on the ground in front of Beca.

“I-it h-hurts,” Beca gasps. “Can’t b-breathe.”

“Can I have your hand?” Chloe asks carefully. Beca nods, holding it out to Chloe, who shifts to sit on the couch next to Beca. She puts a hand tentatively on Beca’s shoulder, pushing her to a sitting up position. Chloe takes Beca’s hand and puts it on her chest, near her heart. “Okay, now just stop thinking. Focus on this. The feel of my heartbeat.” Chloe’s voice is slow, soft and soothing.

“I c-can’t,” Beca whines. Chloe shakes her head.

“Stop that. I’m serious. Look at me.” Beca’s eyes search to find Chloe’s, holding the gaze. “Now shut up, and focus on my heartbeat. Can you feel it?” Beca nods, not breaking the gaze. Chloe’s voice takes on that soothing quality again. Beca thinks it reminds her of a mother lulling her child to sleep. It’s nice.

“Good. Focus on my heartbeat. It’s strong, like yours I’d bet. And it’s steady, constant. Not too fast, but not too slow. It’s good, okay? You focus on that. Slowly, you’ll find your heart rate normalizing. It’ll slow-” she stretches out the word “-and start to mimic mine. Did you know that’s why babies like to be held on their mother’s chest? It’s proven that the sound of a mom’s heartbeat helps a baby calm down.”

“Calling me a baby?” Beca exhales. It’s become easier to breathe now.

“Mmmm… not unless that’s something you’re into.” Chloe releases a breathy chuckle. Beca smiles gently. She rests her head on Chloe’s shoulder, one hand still on her chest. She’s still breathing heavy, but the worst is over. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” Beca smiles. Chloe presses a kiss into Beca’s hairline and Beca burrows her head into Chloe’s shoulder. “So, I just screamed at a reporter?”

“A sleazy one,” Chloe confirms. “It’ll probably be quoted in an article within the next few hours.” Beca’s stomach rumbles noisily. “When’s the last time you ate? Something real?” beca shrugs.

“Um, well I only had some fruit for dinner last night because I wasn’t hungry… We had ice cream instead of lunch… I don’t eat breakfast, so it must have been dinner two nights ago. You made us enchiladas, right?” Beca muses. Chloe flicks her in the ear. “Ow, hey!”

“Beca! You need to remember to have real meals more often. And I made you a sandwich after we had ice cream. You said you ate it!” Chloe whispers. Beca pulls back but shifts so that her shoulder is still pressed up against Chloe’s.

“Okay, so maybe Tucker ate it,” she admits. Chloe throws her a withering look.

“Okay, let’s go get you something to eat. There’s a vending machine upstairs. It’s not the best choice, but it is our best option. C’mon,” Chloe grins, pulling Beca back up the stairs.

 

It was lunch time before Beca and Chloe saw ADA Weller. She was grinning ear to ear.

“They took a plea,” she whispers, coming closer. “I’m not supposed to be telling you, but we just submitted the agreement to the judge. When everyone comes back from lunch, they’ll be officially changing their plea. The trial is over.”

“It’s over?” Beca exhales. 

“It’s over.” Chloe smiles tentatively, squeezing Beca’s hand.

 

Within the hour, the girls were sitting in the courtroom, watching the allocution. Beca was crying, watching her attackers stand up in court and admit their guilt. The tears were rolling down her cheeks as they confessed the terrible, abominable things they did to her. But they couldn’t even talk about the worst things. How they took her safety, her peace of mind, her security in herself, her sanity. How she suffers from nightmares at least three times a week, panic attacks once a week. How she had to quit her job because the PTSD was too much for her to function. Beca was breathing hard as they put it on the court record, put everything out there, but she’s glad that justice was served.

The courtroom was filled with journalists and cameras, and their flashing lights made the whole thing seem like a dream. But it was real. The firm, warm feeling of Chloe’s hand in hers reminded Beca that this, that  _ she _ , was very real. Her breath shook as she exhaled, and her free hand laced itself in Chloe’s, the other wrapped in Tuck’s leash, patting him fervently.

“Does the allocution satisfy the prosecution?” the judge asks.

“It does, your honor.” ADA Warner turns back to glance at Beca, who nods. She pulls her hand to wipe at the tears, but Chloe keeps her hold on Beca, instead helping her wipe away the tears.

“Alright. Defendants will be in jail until formal sentencing. Court dismissed.” With the bang of the gavel, Beca lets out a watery, breathy laugh.

 

“Miss Mitchell, Miss Mitchell!” As Beca and Chloe are escorted out the back door of the courthouse, they find they’re still blitzed with cameras, microphones and reporters. Chloe tries to pull Beca along, down through the path that the court officers had made for them. But Beca stops on the steps.

“Miss Mitchell! Care to comment on the verdict today?” One woman shouts. Beca turns to her.

“I’m glad that justice was served. I know that the prosecution team did an excellent job negotiating a deal. I’m just glad it’s over,” she says confidently.

“Miss Mitchell,” another shouts, “this is the first time you’ve spoken out since the assault. Can you tell us how it’s affected you? And this trial?” Beca breathes deeply.

“It fucking sucked. Oh, shit- shoot! I mean shoot! Um, yeah it sucked. Sorry, I know you can’t quote the swears. I’ll be better,” she rambles nervously. She lets go of Chloe’s hand for a moment to brush it through her hair. “Um, yeah it was terrible. I can’t… I had to quit my job because leaving my bed in the morning and going on the daily commute, surrounded by people, was too much for me. I took an average of five showers a day just so I could feel clean of them. And every day of this trial I’ve been forced to relive it. So, yeah, I’m fucking ecstatic- I mean! Shoot, I’m glad it’s over now, is all I’m trying to say.” The reporters smile bemusedly at Beca as her cheeks get redder.

“Thank you,” one of them smiles.

“Miss Beale, tell us about your relationship with Beca!” Someone shouts as they start to walk away. Chloe shoots him a confused look.

“We’re friends. Best friends, I’d say.” She looks at Beca and shrugs, grabbing her hand again. 

“Hard not to be best friends with a girl like you,” Beca snorts quietly. “And it helps that she was basically a knight in shining armor when I needed her,” she adds for the reporters. “And she’s been there for me ever since.” They start to walk away, ignoring the continued, frenzied shouts of the reporters.

“You know,” Chloe says after a moment, pulling Beca to an abrupt stop, “if you’re reporting on Beca, you should know that she’s a musician, and artist. She’s been producing some of her own tracks. Maybe she can give an exclusive preview to someone? Or, like, a professional recording company?” She says it so innocently, like she’s just telling them about how Tucker likes to play fetch rather than outing Beca’s very personal, very  _ private _ music and offering a free show of it, trying to bribe professionals to come critique her music. Beca clenches her jaw and squeezes Chloe’s hand, pulling her down the steps toward the waiting cab, completely ignoring the frenzied shouting from the reporters, the clamoring as they all beg for a taste of her music.

In the cab, Beca is silent, glaring out the window. Chloe doesn’t understand what she did wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.... sorry guys


	29. Little Miscommunications

They rode home in silence. Beca stared out the window, glaring at everything she passed by. Chloe just figured she was still emotional and processing the end of the trial. It was, after all, a very quick end to a very painful, emotional ordeal for her. The cab driver kept glancing back in the rearview mirror, trying to figure out what their deal is. 

When they get home, Chloe thanks the driver and pays her while Beca just starts for the stairs. Chewing her bottom lip, she takes the stairs two at a time. It makes her heart beat faster and by the time she gets all the way up to her floor, her chest is heaving but it feels good. It distracts her for a moment as she focuses on controlling her breathing.

“In a hurry there, Becs?” Chloe asks lightly when she arrives. “You just walked away without waiting for me, and then you sprinted up the stairs.”

“Yeah, I know,” Beca grunts. After a beat, she adds, “I just needed some space.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Chloe smiles. “I was hoping to go to the library, anyway. If you need me, that’s where I’ll be, okay?” As she gathers her things, Beca goes into her room, Tucker following, and closes the door. Chloe figures she just needs to process, and come to terms with the trial’s end. It’s a normal part of her healing process. So, she calls up Stacie to drive with her to the public library and leaves, not knowing Beca’s actually stewing about her.

 

“Becaw!” Jesse crows through the phone. Beca had wrestled with her need to call someone for half an hour before dialing her best friend. “Hey! How are you? I heard about the trial.”

“I’m… fine,” Beca sighs. “Are you busy? Can you come over? I just… really need to blow off some steam.”

“Yeah, I just got out of work. Are we blowing off steam in an alcoholic way, or in a verbal way?”

“Both?” Jesse barks out a laugh and Beca feels better. It’s almost normal: her calling Jesse after a crappy day, and him coming over with drinks so they can bitch and moan.

“I’ll be over there before you know it, B,” he promises. Beca hangs up, feeling much better about the situation. But a part of her also feels strangely off-kilter, and she doesn’t know how to fix that.

 

“So, she started talking about my music, but I wrote that for me! And I only showed her because… I don’t know, man, but I didn’t think she would just start talking about it like she was telling people to go listen to a new Taylor Swift song, or something,” Beca rants. Once Jesse had arrived with the beer in tow, they’d settled at the kitchen table, waiting for a pizza. He listened patiently while she went on and on about Chloe.

“That sucks, man,” Jesse sighs. “Did you ever tell her that the songs were private?”

“Well, no,” Beca frowns.

“But you did talk to her about wanting to be a musician? Producing your own music and stuff?” 

“Well, duh. Chloe’s one of those people who gets really chatty late at night after a few glasses of wine, so we’re well-versed in midnight conversations about stupid shit.” Jesse snorts into his drink. Of course Miss Beca-  _ don’t- take- it- personal- I- push- everyone- away- _ Mitchell would let Chloe get her drunk and talking about her hopes and dreams. Of course.

“Right, so you told her you wanted to be a musician, and you showed her your music. Did you ever tell her that those songs were private?” Beca runs her tongue along her teeth, cheeks reddening. “So, that’s a no.”

“Whose side are you on?” Beca accuses. Jesse puts his hands up in surrender.

“I’m always on your side, Becs. But, I am pointing out that it’s unfair of you to be mad at Chloe when you never exactly told her  _ not _ to tell people. I bet she thought she was helping you.” And Beca knows he’s right. Chloe wouldn’t have said anything if she knew Beca didn’t want other people to hear it. But it doesn’t make it any easier to accept because if he’s right, then she’s in the wrong.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Beca grumbles, crossing her arms.

“All I’m saying is that you should tell her how you’re feeling, and that you’re upset.” He pauses to let that sink in, going to answer the door for the pizza man. He pays and gets the plastic plates while Beca just digs in. They eat and drink in companionable silence.

“Do I have to tell her?” Beca whines after a while. Ever the lightweight, Beca gets whiny and emotional by her third beer, and she’s downed four of Jesse’s twelve-pack.

“Yes. You do. Because she can’t read your mind and if you stew, it probably won’t be good for anyone.” Beca groans, sliding down in her chair.

“Are you sure she can’t read minds? Because she’s got those  _ eyes _ .” Jesse just smirks, wondering where this is going. Sometimes, drunk Beca forgets she’s actually saying things out loud and it gets fun for everyone. “Those fuckin’ blue eyes that see right through me, man. I bet those are good for teaching. Like, she just makes eye contact with a troublemaker and  _ BAM _ he behaves.” She sighs, taking another sip.

“I’d bet that eyes like that get  _ intense _ during sex.” Jesse coughs on his beer. “Arms up, dude. But yeah, like… She’s just staring at you while she’s going down, and her whole body moves and she just keeps making eye contact with me while her fingers are inside, and her tongue and those  _ eyes _ and that  _ hair _ and- holy fuck.” Beca suddenly freezes. “I wanna kiss her.”

“What?” Jesse shouts, forgetting not to interrupt drunk Beca.

“Yeah, man. I want to kiss her. Like, a lot. And I want to touch her pretty hair and hug her, and other stuff. I like her. Like, I  _ like _ -like her.” Beca grins at him. He just stares.

“Are we using middle school definitions of ‘like’ now?” he finally says. She just shrugs, grinning at him. When she goes to open another beer, he takes it away from her.

“Hey,” she whines, pouting. “So what? I like Chloe, a lot. And-and-and that’s okay! ‘Cuz we met at Pride and her best friends are gay and getting married! Ooh, maybe we could do a double wedding.”

“Beca,” Jesse sighs, laughing. “Let me get you some water. Go into the living room.” He’s putting ice in a cup when he hears a crash followed by a long string of slurred profanities. When he comes back, he finds her on top of the coffee table. All of the books and magazines and dirty dishes piled on top are now on the ground. One of the dishes had smashed. He rolls his eyes. Picking her up easily, he tosses her onto the couch. She giggles as she bounces and settles herself.

“Again, Jesse!” she giggles. He just sighs, shaking his head. It’s been a while since he’s seen Beca really let go like this. Probably hasn’t happened since she first got to LA. Her eyelids are drooping while he cleans up the broken glass and straightens up the coffee table. He’s just about to get settled on the couch when he hears a key turning in the lock.

“Beca, I’m home!” 

“I’m drunk,” Beca yawns back. Jesse lumbers into the kitchen to find Chloe and Stacie giving him peculiar looks.

“She was having a crap day, wanted to unwind and talk,” he defends. “She only had, like, five beers over two hours? Okay, so maybe that’s too much for someone so little like her. Plus, I cut her off and gave her a glass of water. So… Right,” he trails off awkwardly while Stacie giggles.

“I could have talked to her. She told me she wanted some time to herself,” Chloe pouts, glancing off towards the living room.

“You know how Beca is,” Jesse says awkwardly. “She pushes people away when all she really wants to do is pull them closer.”

“That’s kinda sweet,” Stacie coos. “Anyway, nice seeing you again, Jesse. I gotta go home. Bree’s looking at venues online and it’s giving her anxiety. Gotta make sure she doesn’t puke on all our white carpets. Bye Beca!” she calls. Beca doesn’t respond. Nervous, Chloe runs in there, expecting to find Beca choking on her vomit or bloody from tripping and falling. She finds Beca sound asleep, snoring lightly (so Chloe is certain she’s breathing).

“Why’d she talk to you and not me?” Chloe asks softly, moving into the kitchen so as not to disturb Beca. Jesse doesn’t really know what to say here.

“Ask her. Once she’s sobered up. I promise it’ll explain everything. I gotta get going.”

“You’re not driving, are you?” Chloe asks. Jesse shakes his head.

“Took the bus. Later, Chloe.”

“Bye Jesse,” she calls sadly. What could she talk to him about that Beca couldn’t talk to her about? What if Beca was talking about Chloe? Maybe that’s why Jesse was being so weird. Maybe Beca wants Chloe to leave but doesn’t know how to tell her to get out. Oh God. Chloe’s homeless. She shouldn’t have sold her apartment to live on Beca’s couch. Damnit.

Convinced that her life is ending, Chloe goes to lay on Beca’s bed, staring at the ceiling.

 

When Beca wakes, her head is pounding. She can feel her heartbeat in her ears, and every sound is amplified. She feels like she got hit by a truck and can feel bruises forming on her legs. It’s pathetic how she seems to have lost her alcohol tolerance from college. She barely had a few beers.

“Chlo?” she calls out. There’s a stirring in her bedroom.

“Hey, Becs,” Chloe replies. Beca is certain it’s actually a whisper, but it feels like Chloe is screaming. She winces. Chloe disappears into the kitchen, returning with a half drunk Gatorade and some pills. She hands them to Beca wordlessly and silently settles herself on the couch, waiting for Beca to feel better. She fiddles on her phone while she waits. Finally, Beca speaks.

“Hey.”

“Hi, drunky,” Chloe teases quietly. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just…” Beca squirms. “I needed to vent.”

“Is there a reason you chose Jesse and not me?” Chloe bites her lip and Beca feels like an ass for hurting her. Even if it was necessary.

“I… don’t like the way you just offered my music up to those reporters. And I was mad, so I needed to talk to someone. And normally, I’d talk to you but I couldn’t, so I talked to Jesse. And I realized- well, he made me realize- that I never actually told you not to tell people about my music, which made me an ass for being mad. So I just wanted to tell you,” she says in a rush.

“I-I- Beca, I’m so sorry. I-I thought you w-wanted to be a musician. I-I didn’t know it- I thought you just… I was trying to help. I’m sorry,” Chloe stutters.

“No, no, I know,” Beca sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, she’s botching everything up and making Chloe feel worse. “I never… Never told you not to tell anyone. And I do want to be a musician. I just… didn’t plan on showing anyone the songs I’ve shown you. They’re… very personal.”

“Beca, I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to force you to show anyone those songs. You just… You showed me some of your mixes that you made before. I was thinking you could show people those. I… I’m so sorry, Beca, I should have checked with you.” Chloe worries her bottom lip. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of- of course,” Beca stutters, blushing.

“Yay! Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?” Beca’s impromptu drunken confession to Jesse runs through her mind.

“Nope,” she squeaks. Her cheeks are pink and Chloe is looking at her suspiciously like she knows Beca is lying. But thankfully, she lets it go.

“Okay. So, any pizza left over for me?”

“No, Jesse ate practically all of it, so I’m pretty hungry still. We can order some more, or some Chinese?”

“Ooh, Chinese!” Chloe squeals. And just like that, the subject is dropped.


	30. That's a Wrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An overall conclusion. Hope this ties up all of your loose ends! Enjoy, nerds!

Beca declined to go to the sentencing. She had no desire to see her attackers again just to hear what Weller had already told her. The men who pleaded out early, sparing her the trial, had confessed to a multitude of crimes and were sentenced to a total of forty years with possibility of parole. According to ADA Weller, they were serving their sentences at state prisons in varying parts of California. As for the men who took her to trial, Weller got them to agree to fifty years with no possibility for early parole, and Eddie Bridges got an extra ten years tacked on for attacking them with a knife and cutting her dog.

It was satisfying, good to know. Beca and Chloe spent the next few weeks just celebrating the summer. They ate ice cream, went swimming, and went out to restaurants. In the mid-August heat and humidity wave, they took a week-long trip to the Great Lakes region in Michigan. While on the airplane, Beca had been stared at, and a few people asked about her music deal. It had been nice to escape to Chloe’s family’s cabin on the lake, ignoring everyone. And it had been fantastic for her music.

By the time they returned in time for Chloe to go back to school, Beca had been contacted by five different record producers all curious about her music. After some prompting from Chloe, she picked a mix of Bulletproof and Release Me. Chloe had insisted it was perfect, and two producers had already called her back.

The summer was winding down to a close, and Chloe was due back at school the next morning.

“You gonna be okay?” Chloe asks quietly. She had taken to sleeping in Beca’s room, completely forgetting about saving up to buy a new mattress for the guest room. It was late and they were curled under blankets, happily enjoying the power of their air conditioning. “Back to long days by yourself?” Chloe runs a finger along Beca’s scalp, pushing a piece of hair back. Beca shakes her head, pulling back.

“I’ll be fine,” she murmurs. They’re both lying on their sides, faces within inches of each other. “I, um, I have a meeting with a producer tomorrow,” she admits. “And an appointment with Kate.”

“Beca, that’s amazing! Why did you not tell me?” Chloe whispers excitedly. Beca shrugs.

“Didn’t wanna, like, jinx it, I guess?”

“What producer? What company?” Beca bites her lip nervously. It’s too much to look Chloe in the eyes. Those bright blue eyes, all hopeful and curious, were far too close for Beca to escape. She instead focused on Chloe’s lips. But watching them move, shifting and rolling, the edges quirking up when she realizes Beca is staring, is also far too intense for her. There was no good solution here, not if Beca wanted to stay friends with Chloe.

“Residual Heat? I don’t know, like, it’s a small company. Whatever. But the head guy seems like an ass. And, um, he says he wants, like, my music to say something. Not just another remix. So… I don’t know what to bring him because nothing I do is original and I don’t have any time before the meeting and, I guess I just don’t have what it takes to be a music producer, or whatever. It’s cool.”

“You do so have what it takes!” Chloe slaps Beca's arm lightly. “You're crazy talented and you can mix music like nobody's business. And I've heard your original lyrics and they're amazing. So don't you dare talk about my best friend like that, understand?” Beca just smiles. She doesn't understand what forces were smiling down at her. Or how she got so lucky to meet Chloe. As unfortunate and terrible as her assault was, she has to admit that amidst all the crap it's given her, one good thing did come out of it. 

“How lucky am I to call myself your best friend,” Beca grins. Chloe just blushes. She was far more used to teasing remarks and sarcastic quips than genuine feelings. Chloe doesn't quite know what to say. “Now, go to bed. You have to be in early tomorrow morning to greet elementary school children and need all the energy you can get.” Chloe rolls her eyes, smiling. 

“I already told you that the kids don't come back until next week. I just have to prepare my classroom and go to a few professional development meetings and stuff. And besides, I love the kids. Unlike  _ some _ people.” She glanced knowingly at Beca. 

“They're sticky and loud and mean and obnoxious,” Beca defends immediately. Chloe just laughs. 

“Aww are the mean eight year olds bullying you again Beca?” She teases in a baby voice. 

“Shut up,” Beca huffs, her cheeks flushing red.  _ Great comeback, Mitchell.  _ “You're weird. I'm going to bed now.” She rolls over and attempts to close her eyes. But there's a gentle pressure as Chloe wraps her arms around her and squeezes. The gentle puffs of her breath on the back of Beca's neck. The delicate feel of her nose burrowing itself in Beca's shoulder. How the hell is she supposed to sleep like this? “What are you doing?” She asks, glancing over her shoulder. 

“Hugging you?” Chloe says it as if it's obvious. “Haven't you learned by now that I'm a sleep snuggler?” Beca has woken many a morning to find Chloe wrapped around her like a warm blanket. It was maddening and sweaty and gross when the air conditioner was broken. Now it was just a mild inconvenience. 

“Well, yeah but no, like… Don't you usually wait until I'm asleep?” Beca blushes, stumbling through the words. 

“Well yeah, why? Do you not like this? Should I move?” She can feel Chloe's arms starting to retreat when she shouts. 

“No!” The panicked word escapes her before she can even try to sound more dignified. She clears her throat to try again when Chloe giggles and rests her chin on Beca's shoulder. “I mean, it just surprised me is all. I've never, like, done this before, I guess?”

“You've never cuddled before bed? What about with your past relationships?” Chloe sounds genuinely confused as if  _ everyone  _ should get to cuddle. Like Beca's been deprived of something integral to her survival. 

“My last serious relationship was my sophomore year of college. Since we both loved in dorms we didn't get to fall asleep in the same bed too often. After that, I mostly did temporary relationships. One night stands, I guess. Don't judge, or anything, I just didn't want to, like, get bogged down. I guess?”

“Not with your up and coming music deal, right?” There's a teasing lilt to her tone but Beca ignores it. 

“Of course,” she agrees. “Anyway, um… I guess this is fine. It just took me by surprise. Or something. Whatever. Cuddle away.” Blushing, Beca closes her eyes, determined to fall asleep quickly. It’s much harder now that she’s aware of every curvature of Chloe’s spine, can feel her breasts pushing up against Beca’s back.

Chloe just seems to relax into her, unaware of the effect she’s having on Beca. Beca lets out a little whine when she feels Chloe’s finger starting to trace patterns on her forearm. Thankfully, Chloe doesn’t say anything, just continues gently drawing on her. Though it originally made her jump, Chloe’s touch is soothing and she slowly feels herself starting to fall asleep. Even when Chloe has to shift as her arm falls asleep, Beca can feel her breathing slow as she drifts closer and closer to sleep. She’s just on the cusp, on the edge between sleeping and waking when Chloe speaks, whispering in her ear.

“Good luck tomorrow, I love you,” Chloe whispered. And Beca, already mostly lost to sleep, was only conscious enough to nuzzle her chin into Chloe’s arms,

“Love you, too,” she murmured softly. So quiet that Chloe almost missed it. But she didn’t. She just smiled and closed her eyes, holding Beca as she, too, drifted off to sleep.

 

“What if he hates it?” Beca worries her lower lip. Kate just tilts her head. “I mean, I put so much of myself into that song. It’s like… my innermost feelings. What if he hates it? What if he hates  _ me?” _ Most of Beca’s session with Kate this morning had been spent preparing her for the lunch meeting with the record producer.

“Songwriting is an incredibly personal experience. And sharing that with someone can be… It puts you in a pretty vulnerable position! I can understand you being nervous, and you can’t control the way he reacts to your music. But just remember that not liking your music is not related to disliking you personally,” she explains, shifting in her seat. Beca takes a sip of water to give herself a moment before answering.

“I know that,” she finally says. They sit for a moment.

“Okay, so, which song are you going to show the producer? Have you decided yet?” Beca sighs. She brought a flashdrive with all of her original music but hadn’t yet decided which of the four songs she would show the man.

“Um, I don’t know. I have the one that’s mostly about the rape. Like, how I was feeling and thinking at the moment but that’s too… raw. That one was just for me to get it out. Then I made that one about feeling like I was on trial, remember?”

“Right, right, and how everyone was watching you. You had some great lyrics in that song. It was good,” she compliments. Beca blushes.

“Right, um, thanks? So I might do that one. But it’s a little… edgy? I made one about trying to find myself again and who I want to be…”

“And there was a fourth one, right? About… Chloe?” Kate hints. Beca nods, her cheeks turning red. She focuses on Kate’s diplomas at the wall as she always does when things like this come up.

“Uh, yeah. That one,” she squeaks. 

“It might just come to you in the moment, once you talk to him,” Kate sighs after a moment. Beca glances back at her before drawing her feet up underneath her on the couch. “Like, when you get there you’ll know? Maybe.”

“Maybe… I just don’t… I don’t really know what to do… Each song is so personal, especially the one about Chloe and my recovery.” Beca worries her lower lip. Kate waits a moment as Beca clenches and unclenches her fists. Tucker sits up, resting his chin on her foot.

“I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk about Chloe today. Last time you were here, you mentioned that your… feelings for her are becoming stronger, harder to ignore. Yes?” Beca nods mutely, mortified to admit things like this. “Any… thoughts on that?”

“I feel like I have to tell her,” Beca says in one breath. “I can’t keep it a secret anymore because not telling her feels like lying to her and it, like, it  _ hurts _ .”

“Well, coming out as… gay- or bisexual, or unsure of your identity!- is not something you ever  _ have _ to do. It’s your life. There are no… rules with this. If you want to tell her because you think she should know, fine, great! If you don’t want to tell her just yet- or ever- that’s fine too! It’s… Don’t feel rushed because you think you  _ have to _ tell her. It’s your life. Your process. Your timeline.” This had been Kate’s mantra for Beca as they explored her sexuality.  _ Her _ life.  _ Her _ process.  _ Her _ timeline.  _ Her _ rules.

“I know… Like, I want to tell her. I’m just, like, I don’t know…”

“Nervous?” Kate supplies as Beca trails off. Beca takes to chewing her thumbnail, nodding. She feels like a little kid, helpless and unsure, constantly on the verge of tears. “Are you… worried of what she’ll think of you?”

“No,” Beca snorts. “We met at  _ Pride _ and she kissed me, so I’m sure she’s not homophobic.”

“Okay,” Kate concedes. “So… what makes you nervous?” Beca shrugs wordlessly. “It can be a scary thing putting yourself out there! I get that! Are you worried she’ll treat you differently?”

“It’s not like…” Beca speaks suddenly, urgently but struggles to find the right words. “It’s not like I’m telling her I’m gay in the abstract. I’m telling her I’m gay  _ for her _ . That I have homosexual feelings  _ for her _ . It’s different!”

“You’re right,” Kate nods. “But you’ll never know unless you try.” Beca chews on that piece of advice all day long.

 

“Honey, I’m home!” Chloe calls into the apartment with a laugh. Walking in, she’s surprised to find Beca dancing in the kitchen to old school nineties jams in nothing but Chloe’s old, ratty college t-shirt and panties. Her hair is loose and damp from a shower and she’s got a backwards baseball hat on. She’s spinning around with a glass of wine in one hand and Chloe can see takeout containers in the trash, food warming in the oven.

“Chlo, hey! How was work!” Beca gestures for her to come over. Chloe drops her bags as she walks, leaving a trail. Kicking off her shoes, she joins Beca in the kitchen.

“Um, fine, I guess? It was work. What’s up with  _ you _ ?” she asks pointedly. Beca points at her accusingly.

“I’m dancing.  _ You _ should be dancing, too.” Chloe wonders idly how much she’s had to drink. Even so, she starts wiggling around, trying to mimic Beca’s erratic dancing.

“Why are we dancing?” she finally asks.

“ _ I got a record deal,” _ she whispers excitedly. Chloe shrieks, bouncing up and down. She puts Beca’s glass on the counter before squeezing her, jumping up and down. Tucker comes over, yapping excitedly and jumping on them.

“You did it?! You got a record deal! Oh my God, I knew you could do it!!” Chloe giggled happily. When she finally releases Beca, she begins dancing with renewed fervor, taking a healthy gulp from Beca’s glass of wine.

“Well, I haven’t signed the papers yet. I’m having a talent agent person look them over to make sure the contract is decent. But yeah, I’m basically a star now,” she preens. Chloe can practically  _ see _ her puffing out her chest, strutting around.

“Oh my god, oh my god, o-m-aca-gee!” Chloe giggles, jumping around. “Tell me everything. What song did you play? Ooh! Play it for me so we can dance to it! Or sing along! We should have celebratory dinner. Is that what’s in the oven? Oh, we should have cake! Let’s call Stacie, and Aubrey, and Jesse, and Fat Amy, and  _ everyone _ you know! Oh, I’m so excited!” Chloe races around the kitchen, unable to decide what to do first.

“I’ll tell you all about the interview and deal stuff in a minute. But yeah, this Italian takeout is our celebratory fancy dinner, and there’s a cake in the fridge. I already sent out texts and we’re going out to a bar to celebrate  _ tomorrow _ .” Beca laughs, unable to contain her excitement.

“But what song did you play? Can you play it for me? Do I know it?” Chloe begs, pulling out her best puppy-dog eyes. Beca rolls her eyes, going to change the music over.

“So, um, you haven’t heard this one. It’s my newest,” Beca says, suddenly nervous. “And this was only the first one I played him. After this, he wanted to hear all of them.”

“What’s it about? Ooh, Beca I’m so proud of you.” Beca blushes under her praise.

“It’s um, kind of about you? And how, like, I’ve been in this really, um, this dark place ever since the attack. But you didn’t just leave me there. You kept after me, and you came into the dark place with me, like… Guns blazing, ready to protect me. And you helped me out of the dark place and you were always there, like… Shining flashlights to try and lead me out. And… I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s called Flashlight, but, um, here it is.” Beca fidgets with her hands, watching as Chloe takes a seat at the table. It’s how she absorbs the music, she said.

But as she listened to Beca’s description, Chloe’s hand went over her mouth, and her eyes started to water. Beca focused on counting the tiles on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Chloe’s reactions. As the slow, pulsing piano chords fill the room and Beca’s voice wafts out, Chloe beams. When she closes her eyes, smiling and bobbing her head, Beca knows she likes it. Chloe stands, walking over to her.

“This is about me?” she whispers. Beca nods mutely. 

_ “Some people will wait for the right moment to tell people. Others manufacture a moment. Either way, you tell her when you’re ready. When you feel ready, you can tell Chloe how you feel, and you and I can deal with the aftermath, whatever it is.” _ Kate’s voice floats through Beca’s mind as she watches Chloe smile, blush and sway to the music, trying to sing along even though she doesn’t know the words.  _ “When you’re ready, the moment will come.” _

“Chloe, I…” Beca trails off when Chloe’s eyes locked on hers. She’s smiling, her cheeks pink and eyes twinkling with mischief and… something else. She hesitates, taking a few small steps closer, resting her hands on Chloe’s hip, pulling her closer.

“Beca, what are you-” Beca shakes her head, cutting her off. She can’t do this if Chloe is-is-is  _ talking _ to her. Because Chloe has this… voice and it does things to Beca, scrambles her thoughts and makes it harder to breathe.

“Just- just, like, don’t hate me?” Beca whispers nervously. She’s not quite looking Chloe in the eye, focusing instead on the cupid’s bow of her top lip, the curve of her eyebrow, the slight dimples in her cheeks as she breaks into a smile. Finally, she just- just  _ does it _ . She leans in, stops thinking and presses her lips to Chloe’s.

It’s not like fireworks going off in her head. It’s not a sudden explosion, or a big “aha” moment. It was quiet, calm. They moved against each other, Chloe grabbing hold of Beca’s waist with one hand, the other settling on her shoulder. It was gentle, and slow. Safe. Warm. Loving. It’s like… coming home after a long day, settling into a nice bubble bath and watching something on Netflix with a glass of wine. Later, Beca will question why she came up with such a specific metaphor when she should’ve been focused on  _ kissing Chloe Beale. _

When Beca opens her eyes, she sees Chloe standing, lips just barely parted, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. She opens her eyes and her mouth moves into an ear-splitting grin.

“Beca,” she whispers. Beca just takes a step back, staring at her hands.

“Don’t, like, hate me, I just-” Chloe interrupts her, kissing her again. She pulls away and in the following silence, Beca can hear her song start over.

“I could never hate you.” Beca feels like bursting into song. She instead settles for a shy smile. “Well,” Chloe corrects herself. “I might be a little mad if you don’t ask me out soon. Or if you don’t tell me the name of this song and take me to all of your concerts and award shows.” Beca throws her head back laughing.

“I made my move. Now I believe the ball is in your court,” Beca teases. Chloe rolls her eyes playfully. “And the song… is called flashlight. Because you are… the flashlight that’s been getting me through this crapfest of a summer. So… of course you’ll be by my side for all of those things. For as long as you want to be.” Chloe wraps her in a hug, kissing her cheek as she pulls away. She intertwines her fingers with Beca’s, pulling her towards the kitchen table for dinner.

“So, forever, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks if you stuck with this whole story for me! It was really just an idea, and then I kept writing. And I kept writing. And I kept writing. So thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> So... what'd ya think?


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